


Iron Strange Snips and Blurbs

by doobler



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Feels, Fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Smut, each chapter will be tagged in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-02-10 20:47:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 28,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12919953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doobler/pseuds/doobler
Summary: An assortment of Iron Strange fics ranging from sad to disgustingly cute and beyond





	1. Shared Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Айронстрэндж: наброски и зарисовки](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14251782) by [escuadrilla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/escuadrilla/pseuds/escuadrilla)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: Angst, scary imagery

"Dormammu, I've come to bargain."

 

The words echoed and ricocheted in the depths of Stephen's mind. He could remember every instance so clearly, every death, every loop, every reversal. With horrific clarity, he could recall every stab, every blow, every punch, every absolute decimation. If he focused enough, he could smell his own charring skin, taste the blood in his mouth, feel thousands of blades pierce his body. He could feel it even on the Astral Plane. He'd experimented, separating from his body in the midst of a nightmare, only to continue being tormented by the phantoms of his past. He swore he could see the Eye of Agamotto glowing on his bedside table as if it were channeling those memories directly.

One night, Stephen projected, watching his own body twisted in slumber. Tony was beside him, mouth slightly agape. He looked like a Renaissance painting come to life, his limbs and lashes and fan of hair making the most beautiful golden spiral. Tony snuffed softly, squirming to nuzzle under Stephen's chin. A smile, so angelic, settled on his lips. Stephen leaned in, raising a ghostly hand over the face of his lover. He stroked along the smaller man's forehead before sinking his fingers into his skin.

At first, all he can read is feelings. Warmth. Comfort. Happiness. Joy. Safety. It made his chest buzz, it's so overwhelming. Stephen breathed shakily, diving deeper. Images began to surface. Holding hands. A downy blanket. Crisp apples and crunchy chips. A toast to new beginnings. 

Tony was dreaming about their first date.

Stephen laughed, mirth coloring his cheeks. What a softie.

The image began to change. The sorcerer panicked. He worried that his meddling was influencing Tony's dreams. When he turned to his own body, however, he found nothing but an empty slate. He wasn't dreaming anymore.

Back in Tony's subconscious, things were getting worse. The sky clouded and a portal ripped through the air. It became hard to breathe. Tony turned to his new boyfriend, his chance at a fresh start, his partner in crime. Stephen was choking. He was struggling, clawing at his throat. Tony tried to help but the more he moved to assist, the worse Stephen became. Tony was trapped to watch Stephen choke to death, his hands turning to stone, his eyes going milky.

" **THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT** " A commanding voice roared.

"No! I'm trying, I swear!" Tony sobbed. "I want to save him, let me save him!!"

" **YOU ARE WEAK. ARROGANT. BLIND** " The voice sounded familiar. Stephen could pick out a few intermingling sounds. Pepper. Steve Rogers. Rhodey. " **YOU SHALL SUFFER** "

When Tony turned back, Stephen was in his sorcerer's garb. The Cloak of Levitation was ripped to shreds. The Eye of Agamotto was crushed into oblivion. Stephen was cut and bloodied and bruised. His hands were gone.

Stephen, the real one, drew back with a gasp. His heart was hammering so hard in his chest, it echoed through his Astral self. Beneath him, Tony was awake, eyes wide and scared.

"I can see you, Strange," Tony whispered. His voice sounded so small. "Get back in your body, you fucking idiot."

Stephen obliged, assuming his place and waking up with a jolt. Immediately, Tony let go the breath he was holding and let out a panicked sob. They curled their arms around each other, clinging tightly.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," Stephen clenched his jaw. "It was wrong to intrude--"

"I could see back into your head."

Stephen pulled away slightly to look at his lover. Tony's face was hard to read, his pain apparent but guarded. For the first time, Stephen noticed three Iron Man suits lingering by the door, standing at the ready. Tony's panic attack had triggered a failsafe.

"When you saw my nightmare, I saw yours, like some kind of tormented fucking feedback loop," Tony spat. He seemed to be more angry at their shared subconscious rather than Stephen's actions. "I saw you die again and again and again and it... It was fucking torture. I'd heard vague rumors about how you stopped Dormammu but... I didn't realize... You were actually ready to die for all of fucking eternity to save this shithole of a planet."

"My life is nothing compared to the billions that live here," Stephen's voice went quiet. He knew the moment he spoke that was the last thing to tell his grieving boyfriend. "But I'm not prone to sacrifice, it just. Was the only way. I was in control and secured my safety."

"Still. You have those memories and you'll die with those memories." Tony replied. The venom subsided, making him sound tired.

"We both seem to have some pretty fucked up demons."

Tony laughed, sharp and short. He traced his fingers over Stephen's chest, right above his heart, as if searching for a pulse. They shared a soft kiss in the darkness, hands on each other, searching for support. The three suits marched back to their places.

"Yeah. We do."

"And we'll battle them together."

"Of course."


	2. An Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: angst, minor blood

Tony raced through the smouldering ruins of Times Square, his visor raised and armor rattling loudly. It was silent as the dead, or maybe his hearing had gone out, he wasn't sure. Parts of the Iron Man suit were peeled away and gaps shone between some of the joints. He had a slight limp and his head was throbbing. None if it really mattered, though.

He'd lost sight of Stephen.

A cloud of dust and debris made it impossible to see and Tony's HUD was too damaged to help. The tinny voice of Jarvis sparked in his ear, giving a rundown of the suit's Integrity. Battery at 25%, weapons fully depleted, suit infrastructure running at 10% capacity. 

Tony ignored the warning signs and pressed onwards.

As he made his way through the carnage, he passed a few survivors, stranglers who seemed just as dazed as he was. He caught snippets of conversation, about flashes of light, explosions, the Avengers.

A red cape that floated by itself.

"Where did you see that cape?!" Tony grabbed the civilian, desperation shining in his eyes.

"B-back by the Jumbotron!!"

Tony sprinted, fear turning his blood cold. 

He found the Cloak of Levitation exactly where the man had said, floating like a stalwart phantom over the rubble of the massive screen. Tony rushed over, desperately clawing his way underneath the concrete and steel. It didn't take long before he uncovered his lover, his eyes closed so peacefully, his lips parted as he struggled to breathe.

"Jarvis, contact Christine Palmer in the ER immediately," Tony barked into the remains of his HUD. He took Stephen into his arms, using the last of his energy reserves to cut through the air. "Tell her I'm making an emergency drop off."

He tried not to think too hard about how still Stephen was or how the Cloak looked too inanimate in its master's arms. Instead he focused on the horizon and hoped he'd make it in time.

 

When Stephen finally woke up, he thought he was dead.

The air was crisp, he was lying on his back, someone was holding his hand. He knew he was in massive amounts of pain but morphine kept him steady and lethargic. He tried to speak but his words melted together, dripping with fatigue. His vision finally cleared and he saw Tony by his side, his chin in his chest, his eyes shut as he slept. His boyfriend looked like hell, a lattice of cuts and bruises covering his skin. Stephen knew it'd been a mistake to trust foreign emissaries, especially ones from a dimension he knew wasn't trustworthy. They stabbed him, his fellow magicians, the Avengers, the world in the back at the first chance they got.

Stephen's heated grumbled made Tony stir. He snapped awake, inhaling deeply. Stephen could see the beginning of a panic attack forming in his eyes.

"We're ok. We're alive." Stephen recited, squeezing his lover's hand. "You're fine. I'm fine. We're fine."

"Mostly," Tony stammered. "Your-- uh. The Cloak took some damage."

Stephen turned his head, his heart cracking into pieces. The Cloak of Levitation was hovering at his bedside, littered with a map of tears and rips. Stephen reached out, stroking his hand down the fabric.

"I'm so sorry, old friend," Stephen whispered. The Cloak almost seemed to lean into the touch, bunching up around his hand. "We'll have you patched up ASAP, I swear. If Christine can sew skin back together, she could sew fabric no problem."

Tony beamed. Even in a time of pain, Stephen was putting others before himself. 

"How long 'til I'm out?" Stephen asked.

"Here-- uh Christine left your chart."

Stephen looked it over, cringing every few lines. He wasn't critical which was good but his plethora of shallow wounds would cause some misfortune for a little while. He had a couple fractures in his ribs, legs, and arms, deep muscle bruising, a minor concussion, and a few freshly healing scars.

"Christine uh, says that something helped cushion most of the impact."

Stephen sat up a little straighter, turning back to the Cloak. A reverent sadness crossed his face.

"You... Saved me..." He whispered.

Reaching out, Stephen grabbed the Cloak and pulled it around him in a tight embrace. He stroked every hem and seam, muttering in a foreign language under his breath. Tony's heart gave a tight squeeze at the open display of affection. It was weird to think he had the chance to be jealous over an article of clothing but Tony knew 1) that the Cloak was not only powerful but sentient and 2) the odd duo shared a kindred companionship more akin to brotherhood than anything else.

"I should be out of here in about a week. If I behave." Stephen spoke up with a glint of mischief in his eyes. "If not, you can bring me my sling ring and I'll just portal my way out."

"That's extremely irresponsible of you."

"You'd do the exact same thing, Stark, don't lie to yourself."

Tony chuckled, one hand grasping his lover's and the other joining to stroke down the Cloak's spine. The tension that permeated over the last 24 hours melted away, bit by bit, and Tony could finally breathe. He knew that image of Stephen battered, bruised, and beaten under the rubble would haunt his nightmares for a long time but, at least in the moment, he knew things really were okay.


	3. Morning Comforts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: deadly levels of fluff, romance

Stephen enjoyed the rare moments where responsibilities didn't exist and he was afforded the chance to sleep in. After years of being a perfectly punctual practitioner, it was hard to let himself get extra rest but he found himself loving it in time. It was nice to luxuriate in the warmth and comfort of silken sheets and downy pillows with a pair of strong arms curled around him. He woke up slowly, gradually, shaking the dreams and cobwebs from his brain. Beside him, Tony snored softly, muttering random thoughts under his breath. Stephen caught "infinitely looped multi-functional matrix" and "non-stop sheep shears", both of which were oddly specific and raised more questions than answers. 

Stephen laid back into the mattress, humming happily when Tony followed. The smaller man wormed closer, resting his head on Stephen's chest. The arc reactor pressed against Stephen's ribs, a familiar pressure that put him at ease. It made his skin buzz, much like a sugar rush. 

Trying his best not to disturb his lounging lover, Stephen reached over to the bedside table, feeling around until he located his sling ring. He slipped it on, raising his hands a fraction to paint himself a portal. He opened a few in succession, one above Stark Tower, one in the heart of Central Park, one inside the New York Sanctuary, and one inside the Avenger's training facility. All looked normal, most of the locations quiet in the heady glow of a sleepy Sunday morning.

"Stations clear?"

Stephen huffed softly, lowering his hands to card his fingers through Tony's hair. The smaller man was awake but kept his eyes closed, burrowing into Stephen's neck.

"Looking good," Stephen replied. "Oh, and the portals are also fine."

Tony laughed, light and breathy, making Stephen shudder. There was something so intimately private about seeing Tony like this, his defenses lowered, his hair a ruffled mess, his eyes distant and sleepy. He looked so human, so fragile. It made Stephen's heart ache.

"Breakfast?" Stephen pressed, trying to sit up, only to have Tony tug him down.

"It can wait. I've got a stud to snuggle."

"Stud? I don't think I've ever had someone call me a stud before, doesn't seem... Accurate."

"Shush, you're a nerdy stud. You've got too much muscle definition to be anything else."

Stephen chuckled at the logic, dropping a soft kiss on Tony's forehead.

"Fine. Snuggling, then we get breakfast."


	4. Dance the Pain Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: Death mention, feels

Celebrating felt wrong at this hour.

What was meant to be a joyous affair filled with laughter and happiness was morose and quiet. A toast was given through an echoing microphone, punctuated at the close with a silent toast. Multiple people downed their drinks in a flash. A politician with no tact at all called for the party to begin, eager to drown his own insecurities at the bottomless bar in the back.

"Good work, boys," Natasha made her way over, nodding solemnly. "Clint sends his well wishes from the hospital. They said he should be out soon."

"I saw his file," Stephen replied. "He's a tough bastard, I'll give him that much."

"True, very true. I'm... Off to drink until I can't feel anymore. You two stay safe."

When Natasha was gone, Bruce took her place. His eyes were red and puffy, his suit rumpled in places.

"I'm... Headed back to the tower to get some rest. A bunch of us are. Thor is already escorting some of the injured, we'll uh. Be taking watch."

"Get some rest, Banner," Stephen laid a hand on his shoulder, forcing a smile. "You guys are safe now. Tell Thor and the others to take it easy."

"I'll try my best," Bruce chuckled. His laughter didn't reach his eyes. "Petey's real shaken, I don't think he's sleeping tonight."

Bruce ambled off in a daze, followed swiftly by Scott. He managed a quick wave with his good arm before picking up the pace and falling in stride with Bruce.

One by one, it seemed the rest of the Avengers came to give the pair a progress report. After the super group had disbanded and then reconvened, it seemed like Tony and Stephen were at the helm, always there for support and guidance. Their fellow teammates wished them well, some begging them to get home and rest. All of them seemed to be in a shock-induced trance, Tony included.

He barely said a word, his lips never moving nor touching the rim of his glass. He just stood like a stone soldier, his hand looped in the crook of Stephen's elbow.

When the last Avengers absconded, leaving them with a room of idiotic representatives and government officials, the pair left hand in hand. They just stepped outside when Tony stopped.

"The music is appropriate at least," His voice sounded hollow and dead. "Depressing piano is a lot better than last time's playlist. I had fucking LMFAO stuck in my head for a week after."

Stephen smiled, stepping back a fraction as Tony stepped into the Iron Man suit. He prepared to disembark, only for Tony to take his hand. His low powered thrusters came online and he hovered, waiting for Stephen to follow.

The pair floated above the rec center, suspended above the sky lights. Even with the Clock of Levitation, Stephen braced his feet atop Tony's, just in case. Through the glass, they could still hear the music, a morose waltz wailing into the night. Tony extended his hand, his helmet tucking away.

"May I have this dance, Mr.Strange?"

"It would be my honor, Mr.Stark."

They swayed in time, one, two, three, moving in tandem. Stephen wrapped his arms around Tony's shoulders and Tony braced his hands at Stephen's waist. They didn't speak, no words able to convey what either was feeling.

As the song blended into the next, Stephen closed his eyes. He could still hear the explosions, taste the blood in the air, feel the chaos and panic in his veins. So much death. So little time. A few Avengers would never wake up again. Hundreds of citizens as well. 

A sob escaped Stephen's lips. Once the first one eeked out, several followed, until he was crying openly. Tony stroked up and down his lover's spine, silent. He let the sorcerer vent his feelings, feelings that could never be portrayed by words, only the anguished crying of a broken man.

They swayed to the beat until the music faded away.


	5. Is That a Wand in Your Pants or Are You Just Happy to See me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings; implied NSFW, cheesy dialogue

There were a lot of weird things that happened in Stephen's life. He fought inter-dimensional octopi at least once a month, easily conversed with aliens on a regular basis, dated a man who seemed to hoard artificially intelligent robots, and was almost never seen without his floating sentient cape.

His life was, by no stretch of the imagination, normal.

So when he ambled into the kitchen one morning, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and found Tony laid out on the kitchen counter in nothing but a pair of tight-fitting briefs, Stephen didn't even bat an eye. He instead fished a carton of orange juice out of the fridge, along with a cup of yoghurt and a banana. As he poured himself a glass, he made cold contact with the smaller man, his blue-green eyes piercing and merciless.

"Mornin', hot stuff," Tony sang. "How'd you like some sausage to go with your OJ?"

"... I have a meeting at the New York Sanctum in an hour."

"Yeah, and you can conjure magical portals that take you everywhere, there's no rush!"

Upon closer inspection, Stephen noticed that Tony had the Eye of Agamotto strung around his neck. When Stephen lunged for it, Tony shot back with incredible speed, bending away from Stephen's fingers.

"I swear on the entire cosmos, Anthony, if you don't give that back--"

"What, you'll spank me?" Tony rolled over, showing off the curve of his ass in his tight fitting briefs. 

"I'll strand you in a parallel dimension where everyone is Justin Hammer."

Tony's facade dropped slightly, disgust apparent on his face. He jumped back into character though, plucking the banana from Stephen's grip and peeling it slowly.

"Where's your sense of adventure, Dr.Strange?" Tony asked. 

"... I jump through portals that open the very fabric of space, how is that not the textbook definition of adventure?"

Tony took half the banana into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. When he swallowed, he offered his boyfriend a cocky smirk.

"I know you want some, Strange, I see it in your eyes."

"Are you high or something? You're almost obscenely sexual this morning."

Tony hopped off the counter, sidling up until his hips were flush against Stephen's. The taller man scowled, clearly in no mood to mess around.

"I need a shower and a trim badly, Anthony. Either give me my things or face my wrath."

"Sounds kinky."

With a sigh, Stephen leaned in, pressing his lips to the shell of Tony's ear. He whispered a few choice words, making Tony freeze in shock, only to shudder and groan happily.

"Alright? If you cooperate with me now, we can have that later."

Stephen held out his hand, fluttering his eyelashes with an innocent smile. Tony passed him the Eye, torn between disappointment and excited glee.

"I'll be back before you know it," Stephen beamed, dropping a kiss on his boyfriend's cheek. "And keeping true to my promise."

"You fucking better!" Tony replied, watching him go.


	6. Sweetly Shimmering Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings; deathly adorable, illegally romantic

"At some point, when I was a dumb kid, I actually wanted to be an astronaut."

"No kidding, really?"

"Yyyup. Tiny Tony Stark wanted to see what the universe had to offer."

"Mm. I'd pay good money to see a tiny Tony Stark."

Tony chuckled, folding his hands behind his head. Beside him, Stephen readjusted, crossing his ankles and tilting his head back. The sky was beautifully clear in the Arizona desert, a blanket of twinkling stars shimmering overhead. It'd been Stephen's idea to open a portal here and take a breather from work by watching the night sky. They brought a bottle of sparkling cider and some crackers to share in the moonlight.

"I know most of these..." Stephen thought aloud. He pointed overhead, tracing patterns in the air. "That right there is Rigel... There's Betelgeuse and Saiph and Alnilam... If you connect them you get Orion, right there is his belt... Then over here is Sirius which is part of Canis Major.... Right over there is Taurus, you can kinda... Link it together though most Astrology constellations don't look that much like what they claim..."

Tony watched with rapt interest, studying Stephen's face instead of his hands. In the low light, illuminated only by stars, Stephen looked so much younger. He wasn't old by any stretch of the imagination but years seemed to melt away. A youthful glow made his eyes sparkle and his smile widen. Tony hadn't seen him so stress free in a long time. 

"--ey say that there's a lot of power emanating from Ophiucus this time of year but I think that's bullshit honestly."

For a brief moment, Stephen's tirade came back into focus. A childlike wonder shone on his face as he talked. Tony found himself soothed by his voice, low and warm, slightly gravelly from speaking so much. He sounded the same way in the wee hours of the morning, still soft with sleep. It was one of the most beautiful things Tony had the honor to hear on a regular basis.

"I guess in a way we find strength in stars, if you want to get poetic," Stephen thought aloud. "They guide us, they have for centuries, pointing a way home and afar. They're proof of life beyond our system, beyond our comprehension... Enormous balls of unbelievably hot gas that we call pretty, that we use as a compliment, saying someone shines like a star... Maybe it's true. If we can pull power from the very energy of the multiverse, I guess... Some of that power has to come from stars."

"You're fucking beautiful."

Stephen startled, eyes going wide. In the reflection of the stars, his blue-green eyes were violet and white and gold.

"This cider is non-alcoholic, right? Because you've had half the bottle by yourself, I'd hate--"

"I'm being serious, Strange. You're incredibly beautiful. I'm constantly in awe of how ethereal you are."

Stephen, the Stephen Vincent Strange, master of the mystical arts and reigning Sorcerer Supreme, blushed. His face, from his chin to his ears, went red as a rose.

"Th-thank you, Tony. That's very... Kind of you." Stephen stammered. It was easy to see he was wholly unaccustomed to genuine compliments.

"C'mere you Casanova, you."

Tony grabbed Stephen by his collar, pulling him in for a kiss. It was passionate, deep, full to the brim with affection. When Tony swept Stephen's lower lip with his tongue, the taller man jumped, his brows shooting up to his hairline.

"We've slept together countless times," Tony gasped when they broke apart, grinning from ear to ear. "But this is what makes you fucking flustered?"

"It's very... Romantic." Stephen replied. "I'm not... Really used to being romanced."

Tony made a mental note to lay on the charm extra thick from now on and order a few dozen roses as soon as they returned home. 

"If you wanna go, we can." Tony spoke up, sensing Stephen's nervousness.

"No, I. I'd like to stay a bit longer."

Stephen visibly tried to relax, winding an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders. He pulled him close and Tony let out a contented sigh.

"Tell me more about stars?" He asked.

Stephen started back up again and soon enough, they both were asleep, basking in the other's embrace under the endless sprawl of the universe.


	7. Sleep for the Century

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: nsfw, smut with feels, minor angst

Blood.

Metal.

Ash.

Gunfire.

Tony woke with a start, clawing at his arc reactor, eyes wide and panicked. It took him a few solid minutes to regain his breathing and even longer to remind himself it'd just been a dream. He ribs ached from the effort but the pain was a reminder that this, his bed in Malibu overlooking the water, was real. The dream, a wartorn battlefield soaked in blood, was not.

"Nightmares?"

Tony jumped. Stephen was awake already, propped up with pillows. He looked shaken himself though he was making a visible effort to smother it.

"Did I...?"

"No, I couldn't sleep."

"Dormammu?"

"No, the End."

Stephen was referring to the time he'd seen the end of all things. It'd been an accident, a vision meant for someone trained their whole life to handle such unbelievable reality. The telegraph had gone wrong and instead, the never ending darkness and crushing nothingness of eternity had been wired into Stephen's mind. He'd gone medically insane for a while until he found spiritual healing on an alternate plane of Earth. The memories resurfaced every so often, though, cold and cruel behind his eyes.

"I'm sorry." Tony huffed, sinking back into the mattress.

Slowly, Stephen lifted the blankets, crawling under them and settling between Tony's thighs. He pulled down his boxers with shaking fingers, wrapping his hand loosely around his lover's soft cock.

"St-stephie!" Tony gasped, a nervous laugh escaping his chest. "What--"

"I. I need you." Stephen replied. "Please."

Tony nodded, shifting to get more comfortable. Seeing his boyfriend lounging between his legs, his hair messy, his eyes lidded but full of bottomless adoration, made Tony's cock perk up almost painfully fast. He groaned through gritted teeth, carding his fingers through Stephen's hair.

"You're so beautiful," Tony moaned. "I n-need you too."

Stephen beamed, wrapping his lips around the head of Tony's dick. He was so delicate, barley applying any suction, settling to trace the slit with the flat of his tongue, pressing open mouthed kisses to the tip. He hummed deep in his chest, low enough to vibrate through Tony's legs.

"My dreams are guh-getting better," Tony smiled. Tears were prickling at the corners of his eyes. "You're in them a lot, it's fuhhhcking amazing."

Stephen smothered a chuckle, sinking further down Tony's cock. He was still a bit inexperienced, his hands shaking where they lay on Tony's stomach. He took his time, stroking Tony's length with his tongue, caressing what he couldn't reach with trembling fingers.

"You think... You're naturally great at blowing me... Because you say so many incantations all the time?"

Stephen choked slightly, drawing back a fraction to free his throat. Laughing with your mouth full was regrettably painful.

He sunk back down Tony's length, eyes fluttering shut as he tried to memorize every taste, every sensation that graced his being. Stephen himself was hard but he ignored it in favor of tending to his lover. Tony tugged slightly at Stephen's hair, making the taller man groan. 

"I h-hah-have sensitive follicles." Stephen gasped.

"I know."

Tony reached forward, dragging his thumb across Stephen's lower lip. He led him back downward, craddling Stephen's face as he swallowed him whole. It was still so loving, so gentle, so emotionally raw. For a moment, Tony cursed how soft he'd become. The man he was years ago would've never been able to get off to such gross domesticity. He'd needed it hard, fast, loud, like fireworks colliding in a pitch black sky.

Now, he was losing his mind over a sleepy-eyed 3am blowjob, admiring the silver streaks in his lover's hair, speaking barely over a whisper lest the moment shatter.

Stephen took him deeper, the head of Tony's cock dipping down the back of his throat. He swallowed rhythmically, looking up with shimmering blue-green eyes. Tony broke, his hips weakly thrusting upwards as he came with a whimper.

"Luh-let me take care of y-you." Tony stammered, fumbling to reach Stephen's pants.

"Shh it's okay, go back to sleep." His lover soothed.

"You're rock f-fucking hard, Stephen, let me take care of you. Please."

Stephen acquiesced, rising up to straddle Tony's thigh. He pushed down his pyjama pants, sighing wantonly when Tony wrapped a hand around his cock. 

"Look at you," Tony gushed, framing Stephen's narrow waist with his other hand. "You're fucking interstellar, you're so gorgeous."

Stephen bit back a whine, thrusting into the tight grip of Tony's fist. His hold was so steady, so confident. 

"God, you're so fucking sexy, too. I wish I had a fucking camera-- ahn, fucking christ, Stephen, you're so wet."

Stephen sobbed, his eyes dry but his chest fit to burst. He draped his arms around Tony's shoulders, burying his face in the smaller man's neck. He thrusted weakly into his hand, once, twice, three times before tumbling off the edge. Tony sighed as a splash of hot cum decorated his stomach.

Fumbling around, Tony pulled a hand towel from the bedside table, wiping himself off the best he could. He pulled back the covers, bringing Stephen with him. They curled up together, arms and legs tangled in a haphazard embrace, and fell asleep almost instantly, dreaming of warmth and safety for all days.


	8. Mistakes of the Future Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings; death mention, depressing as fuck, happy ending

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, rousing Tony from his deep sleep. For the first time in ages, he awoke refreshed, content, and at ease. Slumping into an upright position, he stretched his arms over his head, popped his spine, and shuffled out of bed.

After washing his face and attempting to tame his rampant bedhead, Tony ambled to the kitchen, smothering a yawn as he rode the elevator from the penthouse suite to the floor below. The lights snapped to life with every step, as if Stark Tower was waking up alongside its creator.

He made his way to the kitchen, fetching a couple eggs, some herbs, a bottle of cream, and a block of cheese. As the pan heated up, Tony started making coffee, sleepily watching the water bubble and boil. He shredded the cheese, whisked the eggs, added the cream and herbs, and loving threw it on into the pan. The smell of breakfast quickly filled the room.

"JARVIS, play messages." Tony grumbled, his voice still hoarse with sleep. "I'm expecting a fucking tirade from Pepper about blowing off that dumbass company excursion."

"You have a video message from Dr.Strange, sir."

The air left Tony's lungs like a swift punch. He stumbled, snapping out of his drowsy routine. 

"Stephen." He gasped, suddenly realizing that his own boyfriend wasn't in the building. "Play the message. Now."

A video feed burst to life and there he was, standing in holographic glory. Tony noticed he was in his sorcerer's robes, his hair as perfect as always, faint stress lines showing under his eyes.

"Good morning, darling," Stephen beamed. Even as an image, his smile was blindingly beautiful. "If you're watching this, it means you've noticed I'm gone. I'm so sorry for leaving without telling you-- I wanted to wake you but you looked so peaceful, I didn't have the heart to."

Tony stumbled towards the hologram, eyes wide as panic began to set in.

"I was summoned to council on another plane of reality. It's... A meeting of magic, I guess. Routine stuff. It exists in a... Hm. All you need to know is that its an alternate state of being and as such, time and space are warped. I'm not sure when I'll be back, could be minutes, hours, days, maybe even weeks. I'll try my best to be expedient, but it's difficult when the laws of time don't really apply."

Tony stood toe to toe with his lover. As if on cue, Stephen glanced downward, ocean blue meeting earthy brown. The hologram leaned forward slightly, kissing the air. Tony moved to meet him, eyes fluttering shut as lips that weren't truly there met his forehead.

"Stay safe. Don't do anything stupid. Please," Stephen smiled, a soft laugh echoing from his chest. "Don't get into any fights while I'm gone, ok? I don't wanna miss out on any action. I love you, Tony. Be back soon."

Tony's heart shattered once the message flickered out of existence. Stephen had been on travels like this before, skimming through the multiverse to quaff interdimensional drama and attend alternate reality councils. As the reigning Sorcerer Supreme of Earth, he had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders.

Something didn't settle right in Tony's mind, however. Something felt wrong.

He tried to shake it off, dismissing it as anxiety. On the stove, his eggs were burning.

"JARVIS!" Tony called over the fire alarm. "Place an order for breakfast! And more of those anti-depressants, I think we're out!"

"Playing it safe, sir?" The AI replied. A hint of worry seemed to sneak into his voice.

"Yeah, you could say that."

 

 

The meeting was just as droll as Stephen anticipated. There was a lot of political mumbo jumbo, mumbled by beings so beyond comprehension, Stephen couldn't really tell what they looked like. Just another day at work. He raised his hand when he needed to approve a movement and shouted his disapproval at backhanded treaties. He never had to rise from his seat (seat being relative, he spent the meeting floating in lotus position well above the ground) nor did he ever have to speak out of turn. All that was needed was his presence for the entire excruciating debacle.

"The meeting is concluded."

Stephen snapped out of his daydream, shaking the smell of aftershave and iron from his mind.

"Oh. Thank you, Y'taang." Stephen bowed his head slightly.

The alien envoy returned the gesture. Possibly. It was hard to tell what was what on a body made entirely of tentacles.

"You were fantasizing about your mate," Y'taang burbled, spurning a wave of heat to cross Stephen's cheeks. "You forget we're all sorcerers here. We can sense your thoughts. Alqretyayr found your thoughts very 'sweet' and 'endearing'. Not that I would understand. My kind mate only to expand the empire, not for emotional connections."

Something churned in Stephen's stomach. Maybe next time, he'd ask to attend the more humanoid meeting instead of the heavy duty alternate reality one. He couldn't really handle the supreme amounts of foreign weirdness at the moment.

"... Thank you, Y'taang."

"Yes. Are you ready to disembark? The Elders have set up portals for us."

Stephen looked around, turning his gaze towards the center of the council. A row of portals had sparked to life, each leading to a different world.

"Your Earth is at the end." Y'taang offered before scuttling off. Stephen watched him enter the first portal, one that shone with a sickly green glow. Maybe he had a non-emotional mate to return to.

Stephen made his way to the portal in question, peering past the circle of sparks. There was a blanket of snow that glimmered brightly, obscuring anything else beyond. He cringed. When he'd left New York, it'd been the birth of summer. He and Tony had Independence Day plans. He'd certainly get a good scolding for coming back so late. Taking a deep breath, Stephen stepped through, bracing himself for the worst.

 

 

It was so much worse.

New York City was gone, replaced by an expanse of snow. Beneath the blanket of white, Stephen could make out rubble and scraggly brush. Was he in the right place at all?

Stephen rose above the ground, the tips of his boots barely skimming across the snow. He tried to take in as much as possible, scanning every nook and cranny for whatever he could find. Emptiness filled his vision. There were no skyscrapers, no Times Square, no shops, no people even. Just a never-ending field of ice and cold.

After a while, Stephen saw a building in the distance, kicking up a column of smoke. He sped up slightly, fear clawing at his heart. As he came closer, he realized the building was a cabin, small and humble. A figure sat on the porch, hunched over under a blanket.

"Hullo!" Stephen called, squinting through the snow's harsh reflection. "Hullo? Can you tell me where I am?!"

The figure raised its head. It was a man. He was old, his hair white as the snow around him. His skin was wrinkled and tanned. He had an unkempt beard and tired brown eyes. 

A circle of light glowed underneath his shirt.

"Well I'll be fucked," The man chuckled. His laughter dissolved into a coughing fit. "If it isn't the magic man, here at last."

"What. What happened here?" Stephen inched closer, hovering over the cabin's steps. His eyes darted all over the man's body. "Is this New York?"

"Yup. Sure is. Or was, I guess," The man scratched at his jaw with gnarled fingers. "An uprising hit about 40 years ago. Mutants turned on one another. The Avengers broke up. We were hit with invasion after invasion after invasion, for decades. I'm all that's left of this goddamned city."

Stephen swallowed thickly. He was stupid to trust Y'taang's instructions. The being had tried to eat Stephen when they first met, assuming the Earthling was an appetizer for the council. He wasn't the sharpest sorcerer around.

"Where are the Avengers? Iron Man? Ant-Man? Black Panther? Hulk??"

"Dead. All dead."

A sob escaped Stephen's chest, emotion rising up, hot and thick. He blinked rapidly, tears catching on his eyelashes.

"You're just as pretty as the day you left, y'know that?"

Stephen startled, his feet finally touching the ground.

"It's the eyes," The man tapped at his cheek, a glint of mischief glimmering across his face. "I've never ever in my life seen eyes like yours. So warm. So sharp. So familiar but so foreign."

"... Tony?" Stephen's voice was small. Broken.

"After a few years, I tried convincing myself you'd never come back. But I'm a stubborn old bitch, you know that."

Stephen stumbled, dropping to his knees. He took Tony's weathered hands in his, making the older man gasp. The sound was so pained, so raw, a fresh wave of tears trickled down Stephen's cheeks.

"Your hands," Tony breathed, stroking the other man's knuckles, his fingers, his palms. "Oh, those hands."

"I'm. I'm so sorry, Anthony, I didn't-"

"Hush. I know you didn't leave me on purpose," Tony smiled sweetly. "I assumed some magic shit went down and kept you from coming back."

"The portal was wrong, I had no idea--"

"Hush up, Strange, calm down."

Stephen half-crawled into the older man's lap, burying his face in Tony's neck. He shuddered, his body wracked with sobs, as Tony stroked trembling fingers through his hair. He felt Tony breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh.

"I missed you, Stephie."

"I'm so sorry."

"I was gonna make you an honest man."

Stephen shot up, eyes wide. Tony laughed, turning away when he started coughing again.

"I was," Tony beamed, cradling his lover's face in his hands. "The morning you left, I started making blueprints. I was gonna make you the best damned ring in all of history. I did make it, duh, of course."

"Where is it?!" 

"Shh. You'll find out one day, when the time is right."

Stephen's brow knit, confusion apparent on his face. He let Tony tilt his head downward, dropping a feather-light kiss on his forehead.

"Go, Stephen. Fix the past."

Stephen's heart clenched and he rose from his perch on Tony's lap. 

"Anthony," He pleaded. "I... If I leave you, I..."

"You can open a portal and return to the proper time, Stephen. I know you can."

"But you--"

"I've lived my life," Tony held up his hand, a peaceful smile gracing his lips. "But another me has a chance at happiness. Give it to that fucker, alright? Don't let him live my life. All I wanted was to see you one last time and I have. Well. And to make love to you one last time but I don't think either of us are up for that now."

A chuckle, wet with tears, burst from Stephen's lips. Tony smiled, drawing the blanket tighter around his shoulders. 

"I missed that sound. You need to laugh more. Happiness suits you. Now go. Please."

Stephen breathed in deeply. He pulled out his gloves, the soft yellow leather ones Tony had gifted him for a birthday long passed, and gave them to his wizened lover.

"Keep these. Please."

"I will. Go, Stephen. Before it's too late."

Stephen rose from the ground, took one last look at Tony, and sped off, desperate to catch the portal before it closed. He saw it burning in the distance, shrinking slowly. He picked up the pace, speeding across the snow.

When he reached the portal, confident that he would make it, he spared one last glance at the lonesome cabin. Where he stood, he could see the outline of Tony curled in on himself. A biting gale snapped up, passing over Stephen like a wall of power. It pushed him backwards into the portal, forcing him through.

Before the gateway snapped shut, Stephen caught a whiff of aftershave and iron.

 

 

It'd been a month since Stephen had disappeared. Tony worked himself extra hard now that there was no one to keep his habits in check. He almost never left Stark Tower, sequestering himself in his work shop for days on end. He ate the occasional meal, drowned himself in energy drinks, bathed about once every few days, and slept less than anything else. He felt like he was dying but at least, he told himself, he felt something.

On one of the days he decided sleep was a good idea, he was halfway across the penthouse when a shower of sparks flew overhead. Before he could even look up, something heavy and soft fell on him.

"JARVIS," Stephen groaned, picking himself up from the floor. "How long have I been gone?"

"You have been gone exactly one month, one week, four days, and ten hours, Dr.Strange." The AI replied.

"I did it." Stephen groaned, letting himself go boneless.

"What the actual fuck, Strange?!" Tony barked. He looked livid despite being pinned in an awkward heap on the floor. "You've been gone a month and you decide to just fucking drop out of the air?! I swear to god, if I didn't like you so much, I'd--"

Stephen swooped in, pressing his lips against his lover's. Tony moaned at the back of his throat, leaning into the contact. After a moment, he carded his hands through Stephen's hair, making the sorcerer shudder. 

"I love you, too." Stephen sighed. He cradled Tony in his arms, pressing their bodies flush together.

"Next time, give me better warning, huh?" The haughty pout in Tony's words were deafening. "I've been going fucking crazy with worry."

"I'm sorry, truly, I am. I would've said something sooner but surprisingly, multidimensional beings are cranky motherfuckers."

"Hits a little too close for home?"

Stephen laughed, loud and full. His shoulders shook, his smile blinding, his eyes squinting as the happiness overtook him. Tony watched, his heart pounding into overtime.

"You should laugh more," Tony suggested. "It suits you."

Stephen returned the smile, surrendering to the ache in his chest.

"Yeah. It does."


	9. Sucker Punch™

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: light violence, confrontation

If Tony had a nickel for every headache caused by the Avengers, he'd been even more of a billionaire than he already was.

Rubbing at his temples, he tried to tune out the arguing, doing his best to get a song stuck in his head. Maybe if he sung Ed Sheeran to himself over and over, he'd be able to actually breathe again. He reached deep into his mental reserve of useless information, trying to pull Thinking Out Loud from the depths of his mind. He had the melody, easily, but the words escaped him.

"--if not for Stark's misdirection!"

The conversation snapped back into focus. Tony whipped his head up, locking eyes with Steve. Cap was livid, blue eyes burning like twin suns.

"Uhm. Excuse me?" Tony asked. His fists clenched under the table.

"Because of your misdirection, we had at least a dozen operatives in the exact wrong place at the exact wrong time." Steve seethed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was the resident GPS," Tony shot back. "Regardless, it's the 21st fucking century, Rogers, you all have comm units, you can communicate. It shouldn't be on me to work transport and funding and save your ass from falling debris and robot uprisings and alien invasions."

"Right, I forgot, you're the patron saint of all heros which means you can do whatever you damn please."

"I don't do whatever I damn please, I do fucking everything-- I do your fucking job, Rogers, remember that."

"As long as I live, I'm Captain America, Stark. Not you."

Suddenly, Tony stood, the sharp movement sending his chair falling back. He opened his mouth to speak, only to snap it closed. Leering with the heat of a million raging fires, he stepped out of the conference room and didn't look back, slamming the door shut as he went.

Huffing harshly through his nose, Tony marched up and down the hall, trying his best to work off the explosive fury within. A vein in his neck was throbbing hard enough to make his jaw ache. With every lap, he found himself getting calmer, the stiffness in his shoulders relaxing bit by bit. He stopped walking when the fire faded to ice and a coldness clenched around his chest.

The door opened.

"Listen, I shouldn't have snapped but I'm fucking sick and tired of being treated like a spoiled brat," Tony spat, his fists tightening on instinct. "I just wanted to--"

"It's me, Tony."

He twisted around, eyes wide. Stephen was standing in an awkward pose, one hand propped up on his hip, the other tucked behind his back, eyes darting every which way.

"Oh. Is the meeting over?" 

"You... Could definitely say it's over, yeah."

Tony stepped closer, brows raised.

"You ok? Is something wrong with your hand?"

"My hand? Ah. Well," Stephen's lower eyelids twitched. He presented his hand, turning it over to show off his faintly bloodied knuckles. "Rogers muttered some choice words under his breath after you walked out so I uh. Responded with an uppercut to his chin. He didn't really take it that well. I think Clint's still cackling though so. There's that."

Tony's heart seized. He let slip a satisfied smirk, pride and delight bared on his face. Behind the doors, someone shouted.

"I think we should make a tactical exit," Stephen offered, slipping on his sling ring and conjuring a portal. "I think a video call will have to do."

"I fucking love you." Tony sighed. Stephen gave him a puzzled look, his face illuminated by a shower of sparks.

"Did you say something?" He asked, one foot through the interdimensional window.

"Nope. Not at all."


	10. A Classic Case of Cinema

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: maximum fluff, cavity inducing sweetness

"I don't think I've ever been so disappointed in you in my entire life." 

"We've known each other for only three years, Tony. So this is the most you've been disappointed in me in three years. Not your entire life."

Tony groaned, rolling his eyes.

"You can't out snark me when you've never seen  _Star Wars_ ," He lamented. He set down his soldering iron, flipping up his visor. "Who the fuck hasn't ever seen  _Star Wars_?!."

"I saw the first one. With the kid and JarJar." Stephen replied, his next words drowned out by Tony's scream of anguish.

"That makes it worse! Okay, alright. When I'm done with this project, we're watching the whole damn thing," Tony's hands were a blur as he gesticulated wildly. "JARVIS? If I don't own them already, buy the entirety of  _Star Wars!_  ASAP!"

"Right away, sir."

 

What should've taken three days, Tony finished in the next four hours. He worked harder than he ever had before, eager to wrap things up and begin his movie marathon. When all was said and done and his new arm canon prototypes were complete, he tucked them away for safekeeping and locked down the workshop.

"Stephen!" He called, making his way upstairs. "Whatever magic shit you're doing, you need to pause it immediately. We've got a bigger problem to deal with!"

"If by magic shit you mean harnessing the powers of time and space," Stephen came from nowhere, arms crossed, eyebrow quirked. "Thankfully, I just finished reading  _The Tome of Tamatotta_  so we can--"

Stephen squawked as Tony grabbed a fistfull of his shirt and pulled his lover upstairs to their bedroom. He manhandled Stephen onto the bed before barking at the air and demanding the movie start.

"So it's kind of complicated because the movies were filmed non-chronologically during totally different decades so for it to make sense, we gotta hop around a bit and don't you have something more comfortable you could be wearing?"

Stephen blinked owlishly. He looked down, taking in his choice of attire.

"It's. My sorcerer's tunic," He replied innocently. "It's the perfect blend of form  _and_  function--"

"It's making me feel underdressed, Strange."

With a weary sigh, Stephen snapped his fingers. The tunic vanished, replaced with a tight fitting tee and matching pajama pants.

"... Is that my shirt?" Tony asked.

"Possibly. Shouldn't you take a shower first? You've got oil smeared on your face and you smell like metal."

"Yeah but I've always got oil on my face and smell like metal," Tony smirked. He twisted around, dipping his head to kiss Stephen wetly on the lips. "It's part of my natural charm."

"I'm not even surprised you were single for so long."

Tony scowled. With a huff he took his spot beside Stephen as  _The Phantom Menace_  began to play.

"This whole intro is absolute shit," Tony grumbled. "You're stuck with this endless scrawl of nonsense followed by some lameass rant about trade disputes--"

Stephen wound an arm around Tony, pulling the smaller man flush against his side. Tony snapped his mouth shut, eyes wide.

"Shhh," Stephen crooned. "Or I'm stranding you in the middle of the Saharah."

"You could. Y'know. Just threaten to turn the movie off."

"That wouldn't shut you up though."

Tony snickered. His boyfriend knew him too well.

 

 

Seven hours later, plus a few bathroom and snack breaks, the end credits for  _Revenge of the Sith_  finished rolling. Stephen smothered a yawn with the back of his hand, summoning up a portal with a lazy flick of his fingers. The Sanctums and Kamar Taj were clear, as was Stark Tower in New York City, the northern Avengers stronghold in Quebec, the Oceanic stronghold in Adelade, and their African stronghold in Wakanda. When he looked at the clock, he was amazed it was only 9pm.

"So what do you think so far?!" Tony called from the bathroom. The shower was running. "Do you wanna watch the next set?!"

"Isn't it just as long?" Stephen replied. He wasn't tired yet but another seven hours felt like a genuine struggle. "And I like it! I think. You keep telling me these are the worst ones."

"Which'll only make the classics look sooo much better!"

Stephen chuckled softly. He crawled under the sheets, fluffing up his pillow and leaning back against the headboard. Part of him was sure he'd have some enthralling dreams once he fell asleep.

"Why are you so intent on showing me these by the way?" Stephen spoke up.

"They're a huge fucking deal!" Tony shot back. Whorls of steam were beginning to curl out from the bathroom. "It's a big part of pop culture! Plus, I mean--"

Tony went silent for a moment.

"It's about space and... Other worlds. But it's also fantastical and magic. There's spaceships and aliens but also the Force is so... It. Reminds me a lot of you. A man of science and magic, all in one badass package."

The water shut off and Tony ambled out, a towel slung low across his waist. Whether his cheeks were flushed from the hot water or his own words, it was hard to tell.

"And y'know. I think you're a pretty classical guy I guess. I don't really know what the fuck that means but I guess--"

Stephen vaulted out of bed, crossing the room to wrap an arm around Tony's waist. He dipped the smaller man, kissing him deeply. The lingering droplets wet his shirt but he didn't care. Beneath him, the arc reactor hummed softly.

"You're absolutely precious," Stephen breathed. "You're too good, I swear to God."

"Shut the hell up, Strange, you ass kisser," Tony snapped back. His cheeks grew even more rosy. "Really laying it on thick, huh?"

"Only as thick as you deserve."

Tony scoffed at the double entendre, the flush crawling up his ears and down his neck. 

"C'mon," Stephen took his hand, leading him to bed. "We've got a lot of movies to finish before we can sleep."


	11. In Sickness and in Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: sick fic, overly cutesy, hearty dash of humor

It all started with a cough.

At the tail end of yet another debriefing, Stephen found himself huddling into his beloved Cloak, desperately trying to smother the noise. Commander Fury gave him a sideways look before dismissing the team. Tony was at his side immediately.

"You ok there?" He asked. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," Stephen replied. "Probably just some dust in my windpipe. I'm okay."

 

The next day, Stephen was pale. His robust olive hue was dull, his lower eyelids were dark, his sunrise blue eyes were glassy. He looked an absolute mess.

"Stephen, you should stay home," Tony offered, watching the sorcerer struggle to slip into his boots. "Can't you guys like. Magically video conference?"

"They need me there," Stephen croaked. "I've decoded some very important text and I need to be physically present in order to explain."

He let out a chain of wet coughs, shuddering despite the warmth of his tunic and Cloak. Tony cringed, trying his best to look concerned.

"Stephie, you sound like you're fucking dying," He urged, wringing his hands. "Call it off, I'm sure it can wait."

"It can't!" Stephen tried to raise his voice, only for it to break and squeak. "I've uncovered a new method to harness the power of a specific grouping of celestial bodies in order to promote cell regrowth on--"

Another coughing fit broke his spiel, forcing him into a hunched over position. Tony balled his fists, reaching out to snatch away his sling ring. Stephen batted him away with a few weak slaps, straightening up and sniffling.

"You can't stop me, Anthony. Not today."

With that, Stephen conjured up a portal. It wobbled and wavered, nearly fizzling out of existence before the sorcerer could step through. Once he was gone, Tony got to work gathering supplies. He no doubt had an influenza apocaylpse on his hands and had to make sure he was prepared.

 

Less than an hour later, a portal sparked to life in Tony's living room. He just happened to be passing through, a few grocery bags in hand. A fellow magician stepped out, supporting Stephen with an arm around his waist. The Sorcerer Supreme looked to have taken a turn for the worse, his body trembling and unable to carry itself.

"He is in no condition to be giving a sermon," The acolyte instructed. "Please do not let him leave home for a while. We'll be able to handle things on our own until he is well."

Tony set down the bags, taking Stephen in his arms. 

"Don't worry, he's in good hands." Tony affirmed.

The acolyte nodded, turning back and shutting the portal behind him. Stephen let out a low moan, burying himself into Tony's neck.

"Alright, alright, you drama queen," Tony sighed, an affectionate smile playing on his lips. "Let's get you into bed."

 

Stephen woke up twelve hours later. His chest felt heavy, his eyes stuck shut, his nose heavily congested and his throat worn raw. He blinked rapidly as a cool cloth was lain across his forehead. The trickles of water tracing down his skin felt like a long drink in a merciless desert.

"Apparently there's a real nasty case of the flu going around," Tony's voice floated through the air. It was hard to tell where he is within the haze of sickness. "I'm guessing your little expedition to Russia really wore you down and you got sick the moment you came back. I love you but you're an idiot, that little tunic of yours provides no protection at all. I knew I should've made you your own suit. Definitely more streamlined, less bulky, but still better than some fucking scrap of cloth--"

Stephen found Tony's tirade exhausting, flitting between consciousness and the sweet embrace of sleep. Just as he was ready to fall back into the arms of Morpheus, Tony pulled away the washcloth. A wave of cold air danced across his skin, making him shudder.

"You slept for half a day, Stephie, you gotta eat something."

A hand cupped the back of his head, lifting him up slightly. He parted his lips and a spoonful of soup ran down his throat. It was plain, lightly salted but satisfying. Stephen wanted to ask if it was homemade but his vocal cords felt stuck. He simply drank until there was no more.

"Get some more sleep, ok?" Tony's voice was soft. His lips met Stephen's forehead, the scruff of his goatee making him huff. "I'll wake you up in a bit."

Stephen didn't argue and promptly passed out again.

 

When he woke up a second time, the blinds were drawn and the room was dimmed. Tony was propped up in bed beside him, tapping away on his laptop. His throat felt better, his mind a bit clearer.

"Morning, starshine," Tony hummed, stroking a hand through Stephen's hair. "You feeling any better?"

"Mmh. Little."

Tony smiled, the gesture reaching his eyes, making them sparkle in the low light. Stephen's heart clenched.

"Never though' you make a guh' nurse," Stephen croaked. "Coulda use you at the hosp'tal."

"Nah, my bedside manner for random ass people isn't this nice," Tony smirked. "You're a special patient."

Stephen leaned into the touch. Tony's hand was warm against his pallid skin. Distantly, he remembered his meeting in Kamar Taj, the translated manuscripts, his failed errand. The aches in his body throbbed through his mind however and he dismissed his thoughts promptly. 

"Cap sends you well wishes," The slightest twinge of discomfort crossed Tony's face. Their relationship was still rocky but the good Captain had a deep set respect for the Sorcerer Supreme. "Natasha bodily threatened me, saying if I let you out of the house, she'd castrate me with her bare hands. Clint sent you a care package that I'm too afraid to open."

Stephen sighed, affection blossoming in his chest. Never in his life did he think he'd grow to love such a ridiculous team of ridiculous people.

"Everyone's confirmed that they'll be handling things fine without Iron Man and Doctor Strange for a while until you're fully healed. So you're not going fucking anywhere, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it." Stephen wheezed. "Could uhm. Could you make some tea?"

Tony beamed, setting aside his work.

"Yes, of course I could."

As soon as he left, Stephen sat up a bit straighter and retrieved his sling ring. An ache that sunk down to his bones wracked his body. He managed to open a few portals consecutively, checking in on Kamar Taj, the S.H.E.I.L.D headquarters, Avengers Tower, and Xavier's school. Everything seemed perfectly fine.

"You do that again and I'm cuffing you down."

Stephen jumped slightly and the portal shimmered out of existence. Tony looked mildly miffed, holding a tray of tea and crackers.

"Relax, Stephen. Seriously. The world will be fine without its doctor for a while."

He sure hoped so.

 

The next couple days were agonizing.

Stephen could feel his body heal itself. His grasp on the magical energies of the universe sped up the process. Progress was still slow however and under Tony's watchful eye, he was restricted heavily. No summoning, no portals, no leaving the house, no physical exertion. Even his reading was limited as not to wear him out too much. He stuck to a simple diet, mostly soup, tea, and other plain foods. As the days went on, the physical agony subsided and his mind was worked into a flurry. He wanted out.

"Alrighty, bath time!"

Stephen froze, mid page turn. Tony looked perversely eager, hands on his hips with a towel thrown over his shoulder.

"Excuse me?" Stephen replied, shutting his book with a delicate snap.

"You're on the last leg of sickness, sweetheart," Tony explained. He whipped off the blankets, making Stephen shiver. "You need some good ol' steam in your lungs to help clear out that shit."

"You've been enjoying this far too much," Stephen grumbled as Tony peeled off his shirt. "You're an absolute sadist, Stark."

"Well," Tony took a moment to admire Stephen's naked torso, his eyes snagging on planes of defined muscle and fading scars. "It's nice to take care of someone who seems to always be taking care of you."

A softness of sorts crossed Tony's face, making Stephen's heart flutter in his chest. Either Tony was being sincere or he was working his A+ level bullshitting skills. It didn't matter because it worked. Stephen went along, letting Tony help him out of his pants and towards the bathroom.

"Couple more days and you'll be free, I swear. I can relate-- it's fucking hell when you're not allowed to work. I'd be going insane myself at this point."

The water shuddered on, filling the deeply set tub. Steam rose from the water's surface, curling through the air and rising through the room. Stephen breathed in deeply. He could feel his lungs clear, his throat soothed, his body relax.

"Look away please." Stephen requested, thumbs hooked into the band of his briefs.

Tony maintained hard eye contact as Stephen stepped out of his underwear and into the bath. He sunk as far below the water as he could manage, a low moan rumbling from the depths of his chest. He wetted his hair, washed his face, and kneaded every aching muscle he could get his hands on. Beside him, Tony whipped out his tablet.

"News update now or later?"

"Now. Please."

"Aye aye doc," Tony thumbed through his feed. Stephen watched the profile of his face, entranced and bewitched. "Alright... We had a minor uprising in Sokovia. Bucky, Wanda, and Vision handled it with grace and sorted things out. Some dickwad with a high IQ decided to attack D.C with an army of robots. I think Cap could've handled it on his own but he took Ant-Man and the Jolly Green Giant with him. Solved in under an hour. Let's see... Wong sent me an email, he said Kamar Taj is perfectly fine and coping. A few acolytes went to an interplanar meeting on your behalf and things went well. There are some new students and they're excited to meet you once you're well."

Stephen beamed, the warmth of the water and stream of good news brightening his spirits. 

"Looks like I just got another email--" Tony groaned, rolling his eyes. He showed Stephen the screen. A bright and garish e-card was glimmering and flashing, the blown-up face of Peter Quill grinning for the camera. "The Guardians send you 'well wishes and a speedy recovery'. Sure. I bet they were guilted from the last time you saved their asses."

"It was a joint effort." Stephen chuckled. 

"I'm pretty sure a one-man rescue isn't a joint effort, they just had to sit and look pretty while you fought an entire armada."

"Just another day for the Sorcerer Supreme. It's in my job description to help those in need throughout the cosmos. Even when they're. Y'know. As inept as the Guardians."

Tony made a weird face, leaning in to press a warm kiss to Stephen's lips. The sorcerer jumped slightly, eyes wide.

"Tony, I'm still sick!" He lamented.

"Yeah but I doubt you're contagious," Tony offered him a shit-eating grin in return. "You can't expect me to survive for a full week without kissing you, that's crazy."

Stephen sighed, smiling as he patted Tony's cheek.

"You make me crazy, Tony."

"Good. No one sane should ever date me."

 

A few days later, New York City saw an attack from enormous sentient slimes. They wobbled slowly down the streets, leaving trails of gooey ooze in their wake. The air reeked of lime Jell-O. 

"Clint, can you see any weaknesses from up there?" Cap yelled into his comm. It was hard to hear over the screaming civillians running from their sluggish oppressors.

"Negative, Cap! They legit just look like giant Jell-O monsters. Pretty sure they escaped from my Nan's kitchen, I always knew her cooking was downright radioactive."

"I think I have a solution."

Cap twisted around, a grin breaking out across his face. Doctor Strange gently floated down to Earth, a shaky yet confident smile on his face.

"Good to have you back, Doctor," Cap beamed. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better, thank you, captain. Well. Worse now, it smells absolutely terrible," Stephen covered his face with a gloved hand. "I got really sick off of lime flavored Jell-O when I was little. This is bringing back some awful memories."

"That's... Tragic. What's your plan, doc?" Cap tried to look sympathetic. It was hard to act serious with giant green slimes lolling down the streets behind him.

"We burn them down so they melt and then hose it all away," Stephen explained. "I'll open up a few portals for you to dump the leftover slime into. If we melt them down, we can be sure they've been truly defeated. Not many things can survive being melted."

"Sounds like a good plan," Cap thumbed his comm to the group channel. "Alright guys, here's what we're gonna do--"

Stephen smiled. The air still felt a little too warm and his throat was already hoarse but none of that mattered. He had a job to do and no sickness would stop that.


	12. Addition to the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: extra fluffy, familial themes, homework

"Mr.Stark?"

Peter tip toed his way through Avengers Tower, his backpack slung over his shoulders, his mask pulled off and clenched in his fist. Usually, Stark made his presence known by now, either fresh from inventing and streaked with oil and sweat or sleepily downing his third coffee in an hour. Peter contemplated calling for JARVIS, stopping himself only when a familiar chill crawled up and down his arms.

"Mr.Stark? Are you in here?"

Peter made his way around the kitchen to the seating area. Someone was bent over a bunch of paperwork, idly sipping at a mug of tea. He had silver streaks in his hair and a rather serious look on his face. When Peter looked again, he realized that multiple books were floating in the air, circling the man's head.

"Oh. Uhhh you're not Mr.Stark." Peter said lamely.

"Hm? Oh. Tony had a last second meeting to attend to," The man replied. He looked just as surprised to see Peter. "Can I help you?"

"No, no, it's fine, I just. Usually come around now and Mr.Stark helps me a bit with my homework but it's fine."

"Homework... Ah! You must be Peter!"

The man stood and strode over. As he did so, the books closed and gently floated onto the table, arranging themselves in a neat little stack. The man extended his hand and Peter tried not to stare at the patchwork of scars that crossed his fingers.

"I'm Doctor Strange. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Spider-Man. I mean. Duh, of course. But just uh. Just Peter is fine."

"Alright, Just Peter," Strange's eyes sparkled with the same mischievous mirth that Stark had. "What kind of homework is it?"

"Huh? Oh just uh. Just some biology is all. It's no problem, I can just use Google when I get home."

"Well I am a doctor, maybe I could help out a little?" Strange waved his hand and one of the chairs pulled out for Peter. "Y'know. Since Tony isn't here. I'd hate to ruin your schedule."

Peter looked between Strange and the chair, hesitating slightly. He took the seat as Strange sat as well and began pulling out his notes.

"We just started our unit on the uh integumentary system," Peter explained. As he spread out his papers, Strange leaned in, his eyes darting across every line.  "It's not really complicated, I'm just having a hard time remembering all the vocab."

"Ah, memories," Strange mumbled, a wistful smile glancing across his face. "Vocab's pretty rough, it feels like every word is the exact same but has entirely different meanings."

"Right?! How am I supposed to remember the difference between the hypothalamus and the regular thalamus?!" 

"Oh well, the  _hypo_  in hypothalamus sounds a lot like  _hyper_  which should remind you that it's involved in metabolic processes. Meanwhile the thalamus has no extra root so it's more basic and involved in more basic functions, like relaying sensory and motor signals."

Peter pursed his lips, mildly impressed.

"Huh. That's actually pretty helpful. Do you have any more nuggets of wisdom you could share?"

Strange grinned, cracking his knuckles and pushing his seat closer to Peter's.

"Oh do I ever."

 

"Baby, I'm hooome!" Tony called. "Man, what a fucking shitshow-- I'd be amazed if any of those dicks knew their ass from a hole in the--"

Tony stopped short. Peter and Stephen were hunched over the dining room table surrounded by a massive array of papers. A half eaten sandwich and bowl of chips sat to the side. There was algebra in one corner, 1800's American history in another, and plenty in between. Stephen flicked his hand absentmindedly and a couple pages rose from the table. He compared them with a quick glance before they settled back in their original spots. Peter mumbled something under his breath, prompting a delighted laugh from Stephen. Tony let an awkward cough squeak out and the duo froze.

"Mr.Stark!"

"Anthony."

"Hey," Tony joined them at the table, unsure exactly what emotion was twisting around in his gut, making his chest tight and his cheeks warm. "What uh, whatcha boys up to?"

"Dr.Strange said he'd help me out with my homework since you were out," Peter grinned. "Why didn't you tell me someone so smart was living here? I would've asked for help sooner!"

"First of all, ouch, that's pretty cold," Tony crossed his arms, brow quirked. "And second of all, it's nearly 6:00, shouldn't you be home by now?"

"Wait what?!"

Peter looked around for a clock, hastily shoving everything into his backpack. He startled as Stephen waved his hand and every sheet of paper organized, straightened, and tucked itself away. 

"Thanks doc!" Peter beamed, snagging the remains of his sandwich and bolting for the window he entered from. "See you tomorrow!"

"Good luck on that English test! Remember your Latin roots!" Stephen called back.

A few beats of silence passed between the pair. Stephen avoided eye contact, acting nonchalant as he returned to his own reading.

"So. You've met Peter, huh?" Tony spoke up.

"He's exceptionally bright, I'm not surprised you entrusted the Spider-Man suit to him."

Tony smiled and the fatigue of the day settled on his shoulders. He trudged over to his boyfriend, leaning across his back and going limp. Stephen reached behind himself to scratch at Tony's scalp.

"He seems like a good kid," Stephen continued. "You planning on adopting him or something?"

Tony barked a laugh though his voice went soft.

"He is a good kid. Too smart for his own wellbeing but. Still good."

"I'm sure he adores you. I've never seen someone so disappointed that you  _weren't_  around."

Before Tony could reply, his phone buzzed.

 

**Underoos:**  hey who is the doc really?

 

**Me:**  Why, you want him to be your new teacher?

 

**Underoos:**  nah just wonderin

 

"Is that him?" Stephen spoke up, opening one of his books to a seemingly random page.

"Yeah, he's uh. Just checking in to say he made it home ok."

 

**Underoos:**  is he like your bf?

 

**Me:**  Yeah. Hopefully more than that soon

 

**Underoos:**  good luck with that!

 

**Underoos:**  that isnt sarcasm i mean it, sorry

 

Tony chuckled. That burning in his chest grew hotter and he tried to shrug it off. Nuzzling into the back of Stephen's neck, he sighed long and low.

"You ok?" Stephen turned his head, concern creeping onto his face. Tony simply smiled in return.

"Yeah. Definitely ok."


	13. One Night in Malibu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: very nsfw, double entendres, drunken flirting

In all honesty, Tony hated these big galas.

He enjoyed the spotlight for a moment, thousands of eyes on him, the flair and the flashes of fame. As soon as he was cut off from the bar, however, and out of his favorite pick up lines, it became a boring affair that only made him depressed. He'd putter around until he felt he'd been present long enough, grab whatever variety of women were willing to go home with him, and make his escape.

Sadly, this gala was oppresively professional. Tall gorgeous women were replaced with fat sullen businessmen. Everyone was content with chattering about finances and golf rather than the thrills Tony preferred. He drank harder, faster, praying the night would fade into oblivion.

"Mr.Stark. Impressive display, as per usual."

Tony looked up from his drink. The rumbling bass belonged to a man around his age with startling blue-green eyes and a cocky smile. Glimpses of silver kissed his temples and he held himself with great confidence.

"I try my best, mister...?"

"Doctor. Doctor Stephen Strange."

Tony was too inebriated to put a face, name, and level of importance together. He simply nodded, pursing his lips as he revisited his champagne.

"I was hoping we could discuss exactly what Stark Medical means in the long run," Strange straddled a stool beside Tony, waving for a drink. "But I have a feeling conversation isn't really your strong suit at the moment."

"Everything is my strong suit at every moment," Tony replied, trying to maintain the slight slur in his voice. "I'm a man of very many talents."

"So I've heard."

The purr in Strange's voice sent chills down Tony's spine. He wasn't sure if he was threatened or aroused. Then again, the best times usually followed those emotions working in harmony. Tony tilted his head down, looking up at Strange through his long eyelashes.

"What kinda doctor are you anyways?" He asked.

"A neurosurgeon. Probably the best in the country, possibly in the world," Strange answered smoothly. "I've got a skilled mind and even more skilled hands to match. Could you handle that?"

Tony coughed into his drink, heat rising up his face and down his neck. It'd been a long while since a man had hit on him. He was rusty and unprepared.

"I dunno, could you handle me?" He shot back after a moment.

"I have a lot of experience with a wide variety of tools, yes."

Tony guffawed at the triple entendre. Swallowing the rest of his drink, he leaned closer to Strange.

"I have a chauffer who can get us to my place in under fifteen minutes." He muttered. Strange smelled like spice and oak and faintly of antiseptic.

"Are you sure you could last that long?"

With a violent shudder, Tony slapped a hefty wad of bills onto the counter and led the way, Strange nipping close at his heels.

 

They tumbled into the bedroom suite, Tony's jacket tossed to the side, Strange's tie haphazardly unfurled. Lips met in a furious display, teeth clacking together, their breathing harsh and loud.

"It's been a long fucking while," Tony muttered between kisses. Strange worked on peeling off his shirt. "So. Bear with me."

"Lube? Condoms?" Strange huffed, backing them both to the bed.

"Bedside drawer."

"Excellent."

Tony fell back onto the mattress with a huff, spreading his legs for Strange to settle between them. When they rolled their hips together, Tony gasped, the hard outline of Strange's cock making his mouth water. He fumbled to unbutton his shirt while Strange mirrored his actions. For being a neurosurgeon, the doctor was surprisingly fit. Tony found himself ghosting his fingers over the plane of his stomach, feeling the firm muscle under a layer of pliable softness. He moaned out loud, prompting a snicker from Strange.

"I'm sure my chest is significantly less impressive compared to your other ventures," Strange smirked, his eyelids fluttering when Tony pressed his hands harder against his body. "When you said it's been a while, did you mean--"

"Yes."

"That's fine. I have enough experience for both of us."

Tony groaned as Strange rolled his hips, pressing their cocks tightly together. Tony cursed the layers between them, hands shaking with anticipation as he undid his fly and tried to worm out of his pants. Strange took the opportunity to bury his face in the smaller man's neck, kissing and laving at the sensitive skin there. When he bit down, albeit softly, Tony yelped. 

"Sh-shit!" He moaned, finally shucking off his boxers and slacks in one swoop. 

"I see why the ladies come running," Strange crooned. He pressed their hips together, watching Tony melt as silken fabric rubbed against his aching dick. "Am I on top or--"

"Fuck me."

"Gotcha."

Tony scrambled up the bed, leaning back against the headboard. He watched as Strange rummaged around, pulling out the lube with a grin.

"Really? Pumpkin spice flavor?" 

"Listen," Tony tried to look serious, his face flushed crimson. "I'm not the type to turn down gracious gifts."

Rolling his eyes, Strange poured a generous amount of lube on his fingers, rubbing them together to chase away the chill. He kneeled between Tony's thighs and spread them wider apart. Tony tried his best to stay calm, jumping only slightly when long skilled fingers began to press against his asshole. One slowly slipped in, drawing out a breathy moan from his chest.

"Now if we could discuss the true intentions of Stark Medical--" Strange began, gingerly pumping his slick finger.

"Oh come the fuck on--"

"I'm joking, I swear!" Strange laughed. "I just wanted to see if you were more willing to talk business with my fingers up your ass."

Tony bit back a laugh. He was drunk and stressed and had the country's best neurosurgeon flirting hard with him. It was difficult to know exactly how to react at this point.

"I'm not gonna claim there's some connection between us," Strange spoke up. He added another finger, the stretch making Tony groan. "I think you're a hot piece of ass and wickedly intelligent, that's the only reason why I'm here."

"Hey, I'm not complaining," Tony reached back to grip at the headboard. Strange becan scissoring his fingers, punching the air right out of Tony's chest. "I feel the same way."

A private smile crossed Strange's face. He added a third finger, his movements slow but calculated. Every stroke had him brushing over that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside, making Tony moan and shake. When he felt Tony was properly prepared, he retracted his fingers, quickly wiping them on the sheets.

"You ready?" Strange asked as he unbuttoned his pants and slipped off his briefs.

"Born ready, baby."

They shared a quiet laugh, one that died off when Strange pulled out his cock. Tony swallowed thickly. With a knowing smile, Strange reached for a condom, tearing the packet with his teeth and rolling it on with ease. He slicked himself with an extra helping of lube before pressing closer to Tony, their cocks lined up together.

"If you wanna stop, now would be a good time to say so." Strange's voice was low, his eyes hard.

"Trust me, I would've said no the moment you spoke to me back at the gala." Tony grinned, fanning his eyelashes. "I'm in for the long haul, sweetness."

"Long haul indeed." Strange replied with a wicked grin.

Gripping his cock just below the head, Strange pressed himself against Tony's entrance. The man was still tight as anything so it took a few tries before Strange slipped in. Their companion moans bounced off of one another, echoing through the room. Strange went slowly but didn't stop, hilting inside Tony with one smooth thrust. For a moment, he lost his composure, his eyes rolling back, his jaw dropping slightly.

"Fuck, you're so tight." Strange muttered intelligently.

"O-only for moments like th-this." Tony shot back. A shallow pool of precum decorated his stomach, his cock flushed with arousal.

Bracing his hands against the headboard, Strange gave an experimental swivel of his hips. Tony inhaled sharply, his inner thighs twitching. Strange fit perfectly inside him, the head of his dick nestling nicely against Tony's sweet spot. 

The thrusts started slow, Strange pulling out barely an inch before gradually pushing back in. Tony watched his face, the open reverence, the focus, the passion. They were faces he'd no doubt see in wet dreams for weeks to come. When Strange started speeding up, pushing in more forcefully, one hand gripping the curve of Tony's hip, Tony let himself be taken. He went boneless, moving only to wrap his legs around Strange's middle. He loved feeling his head snap back with every thrust, the unrestricted movement of a body against his. It'd been so long since he'd indulged in his more submissive side and he intended to take it as far as he could.

"I was--  _mmn!_  Amazed at how... Cameras really can't--  _fuck_ \-- really can't capture your likeness," Strange huffed. Both hands moved to grasp at Tony's hips, pulling him down to meet every upwards thrust. "You're much more--  _hoo shit_ \-- charming in person."

"I appreciate the-- the sentiment." Tony replied. His toes curled, his teeth clenched, his eyes blurred.

Dipping his head, Strange pressed a sloppy kiss to Tony's lips. It was mostly tongue, the constant piston of Strange's hips making the logistics more difficult, but still hot as hell. Tony felt himself nearing the cliff's edge, an earth-shattering orgasm building up in the pit of his being. Strange must have sensed it somehow. He pulled away from Tony's mouth, kissing down the side of his neck. He sucked and licked at every inch of skin he could find, biting down hard on the sensitive flesh. Tony yelped, his eyes rolling back. He found himself meeting Strange's thrusts on instinct, rocking his hips to fuck himself on Strange's cock.

"Cum for me, c'mon," Strange growled in Tony's ear. "I wanna see you before I lose it myself."

Tony tried to stammer out a reply, only to be silenced by a second bite. He came with a loud sob, painting his stomach and chest with ropes of pearlescent seed. He held onto Strange for dear life, breathing harshly as his body became oversensitized. Every thrust rocked his very core, set his nerves on fire. Strange didn't last much longer himself, managing a few more snaps of his hips before he too tumbled off the edge. Tony felt his cock throbbing hard inside him, the condom filling with his cum. If he were significantly less intelligent but equally thirsty, he'd curse the barrier between them, eager to be properly filled.

Strange pulled out slow, shuddering when he slipped out. He traced a thumb around the rim of Tony's entrance, making the smaller man tremble. With the precise movements of a doctor, Strange peeled off the condom, tying it swiftly and tossing it away. He ducked into the bathroom, wetting a small towel and passing it to Tony. He stood at the edge of the bed, a bit softer around the edges, his breathing still uneven.

"Should I...?"

"I'm down with post coital cuddles, Strange, don't get all weird about it."

Strange pursed his lips before sliding into bed beside Tony. He curled up against his back, one arm slung across his hips, and rested his forehead at the nape of Tony's neck.

"Now y'see, in the fine print of Stark Medical--"

Strange let out a surprised chuckle, playfully pinching Tony's side. A weird sense of warmth bubbled up in Tony's chest. His one night stands were never this affectionate. Maybe the sense of vulnerability had both men acting more open and emotional.

"Sleep," Strange muttered. He kissed one of the hickies forming on Tony's neck. "You're probably fucking stressed and could use some shut eye."

Tony mumbled a reply, already one foot in the embrace of unconsciousness. He found himself lulled by the warmth of Strange around him. Within minutes, he was fast asleep, dreaming of flying high above the skies with a particularly handsome blue-eyed doctor.


	14. Self Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: suicidal ideology, negative thinking, no one dies

"Don't be a fucking idiot, Stark."

Tony bristled. That authoritative voice calling him by his surname sounded far too much like Cap. 

"This is suicide and you know it," Stephen's eyes burned like twin suns. An air of tremendous power swirled around him. "There are other ways--"

"We're fucking pinned, Strange, don't start on that holier than thou bullshit," Tony snapped back. "The Hulk is down, Bucky is down, Cap is holding by him-fucking-self, I can't reach Spidey, and the X-Men can't even fucking get to us.  _Show me exactly where this other way is_."

Stephen clenched his jaw. He shot up from cover, shouting an incantation that blew up a line of cars. The army of symbiotes shrank back but only slightly. When he ducked back behind the barricade, he looked frazzled, the runes circling his hands flickering slightly. Even the good doctor was flagging now, the wear of such powerful magic beating down on his body.

"Call Fury, the Helicarrier could provide backup--"

"Even if it could cut through the barrier, it's too damn small in the face of an army like this."

"I'll take you to the Tower, you can whip up something in your shop--"

"What the hell could I make to stop this, Stephen?"

"Take everyone to safety, I'll make a portal and send them through it--"

"You've never sustained a portal that fucking enormous for a long enough time to do that--"

" _The solution isn't a suicide mission, Anthony._ "

Tony barely reacted as the sounds of Hell itself crept into his lover's voice. Stephen gasped, deflating slightly as his magic finally wore too thin to manage. He was spent. Tony retracted his helmet and leaned in close. He had lines too deep under his eyes for someone his age. 

"If I can grab their attention and lead them away, I can set the suit to self-destruct. It'll cause a chain reaction and they'll all be fucking dead. Everyone will be safe."

"It'll kill you, Tony."

"Doesn't a hero mean doing what's right, no matter the cost?"

Stephen inhaled deeply through his nose. When he exhaled, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. 

"You're an absolute fucking bastard, Tony Stark," He shuddered. "You and your fucking hero complex."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black."

Tony rose, snapping his helmet back into place. The final drops of his energy reserves were rerouted into his main thrusters.

"Stephen, I. I want you to know that I--"

Just then, a flurry of plasma bolts rained down from the sky. A ship unlike any other on Earth cut through the air, mowing down the symbiote army. Tony's comm cleared the static, his HUD overwhelmed with noise.

" _No need to panic, everybody, back up is here!!!_ "

"Who is it?" Stephen struggled to his feet, watching the onslaught with wide eyes.

"The fucking Guardians of the Galaxy," Tony grinned despite his tone. "We have a chance-- Stephen, I need you to get out there and start trapping those symbiotes with your circles. If you can group them together, they'll be easier to hit."

Stephen's smile was forced as he raised his hands, muttering under his breath. The familiar golden runes sparked to life, his eyes glowing as he stepped into the open.

"You and I are gonna have a long talk later." Stephen said slowly.

"Of course. Just. Go and do what I couldn't, ok?"

Stephen's face looked pained. He managed a sharp nod before flying off into the fray. Tony followed his lead, eager to rescue his fellow fallen partners. His mind was running at a thousand miles per hour. Maybe it was time to have a good long introspective look at himself.


	15. Self Worth pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: suicidal thoughts, mental health discussion, character study

Tony collapsed on the couch, every muscle in his body screaming in pain. He rubbed at his knee brace, hissing under his breath. For a moment, he contemplated sending the Guardians a fruit basket as thanks, only to remember that interstellar aircrafts don't have addresses for delivery. He'd just have to thank them in person after a good night's rest.

"Alright, Stark."

Tony cringed. He tried not to watch as Stephen rounded the couch and took the armchair beside him. He knew that look on Stephen's face too well; he was playing doctor. His fingers steepled, his blue-green eyes hard as steel. Tony tried to imagine being in a hospital bed receiving that look, Stephen holding a clipboard and running through his medical charts.

"I'm a neurosurgeon, not a psychiatrist, so this is gonna be a difficult conversation," Stephen began. "We  _need_  to talk about these suicidal tendencies you seem to have."

"What more do you want from me, Strange?" Tony huffed, sitting up with his legs spread across the couch. "When we're all undeniably fucked, my brain seems to think the best course of action is self-sacrifice."

"But why? Why do you think that's the only way out?"

"Because it is!" Tony threw his hands in the air. "It's what saved us at that Chitauri invasion, it's what stopped Stane, it's what's saved many people's asses many times over."

"It isn't healthy, Tony," Stephen urged, wringing his hands. "You. You shouldn't be so comfortable with choosing death all the damn time."

"Yeah well. I am. It's..."

Tony cut himself off, dragging a hand down his face. His chest felt tight, the Arc Reactor almost burning against his skin. He wanted a short shower and a long nap.

"It's what? Tell me, Tony, please--"

"It probably started in Afghanistan, ok?!"

Stephen snapped his jaw shut, eyes going wide.

"You have survivor's guilt." He breathed.

"Stephen, really?"

"You still think you should've died back in that cave. You think it's your fault Yinsen was murdered," Stephen's hands shook worse than usual. Had his scars always been so prominent? "You've been struggling with that thought for fucking  _years_ , Tony. You still think that if you give up your life, the scales will be balanced--"

"Stop it. Stop it right now--"

"No, Tony. I won't," Stephen clenched his fists, his jaw set. "You need help and this is the first step."

"What, making me feel fucking  _worse_?"

"Facing your demons."

Tony groaned. He wanted to stand up, to walk off and barricade the door, spend the night in his workshop on a cold pull out couch. His knee locked however, pain shooting up his thigh. He was trapped.

"You need to stop beating yourself up over something you had no control over," Stephen pleaded. "You lived. You  _survived_. The best way you could honor his passing is by using the life you have for  _good_."

"I. I know." Tony sighed, sinking into the couch. "You're right."

The pair went quiet. Stephen looked utterly heartbroken. Tony hoped he'd never be responsible for that face ever again.

"I know it's hard but you can open up to me. I understand--"

"Do you, Stephen? Do you really?" Tony shot up, his eyes wild. "Does your doctor's intuition and  _mastery of the mystical arts_  make me an open book for you?"

"We've both faced death, Tony. Many times."

Tony snapped his mouth shut. It was easy to forget the atrocities Stephen had lived through. His ability to hide behind a wall of stone was unparalleled. With a sigh, Tony offered his lover a bitter smile.

"I know I say it a lot but we're both pretty fucked up, huh?" 

Stephen returned the gesture, huffing through his nose.

"Yeah. We both should be in therapy but... It feels like there's never enough time."

"I. I could make time if you were there with me."

Tony's jaw hardened, his eyes glassing over.

"I... I hate asking for help. It makes me feel weak. Inadequate," Tony's voice was quiet and pained. "It isn't. I. I want to prove myself. I want to show I can be strong, I can stand with everyone else. I'm worth something. But at the end of the day, I am only human. I. I do need help."

"You're wrestling with demons that could kill literally anyone else," Stephen supplied. "You deserve help."

Stephen suddenly brightened, leaning in with a smile.

"Y'know who could relate to you? Captain Rogers."

"Steve?!" Tony found his strength to stand, pushing off the couch with a groan. "What makes you think--"

"He's a soldier, Anthony. He probably has his own PTSD that he has to deal with. I've read his file, he watched Bucky supposedly fall to his death. If anyone in the Avengers is gonna have survivor's guilt, it's him."

Tony avoided eye contact, unsure of what to do with his hands. He settled on crossing his arms, pouting like a petulant child.

"You two should talk," Stephen continued. "I know your relationship is healing but it's been slow. If you open up about your mental health, very sincerely, I'm sure the familiarity will bring you too closer. We all need you both to be on the same page and companionable. It's what you deserve as well. You need someone close who really understands what you're going through. I can't full relate-- I don't have that guilt or a penchant for suicide. The lingering anxiety is all I really comprehend on an empathetic level."

Stephen stood, crossing over to take his lover in his arms. Tony was stiff but shaking slightly.

"Talk to him. The Avengers need to know their Iron Man is suffering and needs help. You're not one of your robots. You aren't made of metal."

Tony let himself go boneless, slumping against Stephen. He let out a choked noise, gritting his teeth.

"Okay. Okay. I. I'll try."

"That's all I can really ask of you, darling."

Tony flushed. It'd been a while since he heard that petname. Burying his face in Stephen's neck, he let himself be cradled.

"Can we just. Sleep now?" Tony asked, his voice muffled.

"Yeah, we can sleep."

"... Thank you."


	16. Surrogate Fathers and Pepperoni Pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: fluff, domestic bliss, superfamily

Nervousness bubbled up in Stephen's chest, like a shaken can of soda ready to pop. He fiddled with the hem of his blazer, pulling on his collar to relieve the pressure around his neck. Tony kept glancing at him, his posture relaxed as he fiddled with his phone.

"You're making me twitchy, Strange, what the hell is wrong with you?" Tony droned. 

"Just. I'm not sure," Stephen pursed his lips, squinting at nothing. "It's. It's like meeting the in-laws I guess."

"Yeah? And you're a charming superhero doctor, you're every in-laws wet dream. Relax."

Stephen threw his boyfriend a glare, though no heat lingered behind it. The weird feeling in his chest grew the closer they came to their destination.

"I know Peter isn't... Ours," Stephen began. "But he's so young, it's like he's. And I'm meeting his  _aunt_ , it's just all sorts of nerve wracking. I've never met the family of my partners before, especially not when their family isn't actually their family--"

"Deep breaths there, sweetheart," Tony chuckled. "It's fine. You're fine. I promise. Ok?"

Stephen nodded, mostly to himself. He looked at Tony again, taking in his casual sports jacket, t-shirt, and ripped up jeans. He felt overdressed and totally insecure.

"Alright, fellas, here we are," Happy spoke up, pulling the car over. "Text me when you're ready to go, I can be here in 10."

"Thanks, Hap," Tony grinned, clambering out of the car and patting the roof affectionately. "You enjoy your night off, huh?"

The two exchanged a little laugh as Stephen followed suit, stepping onto the pavement and looking up. This part of Queens, where the buildings were huddled together and everyone seemed to know everyone's name, always put a nice warm feeling in Stephen's chest.

"You ready?"

Stephen jumped slightly as a warm hand settled at the small of his back. Tony gave him his trademark cocky smile and the edges of his anxiety thawed slightly.

"Yeah, I think so." Stephen replied.

"Lead the way then, MacDuff."

 

"Mr.Stark! And  _you_ must be Mr.Strange! Aren't you just a handsome slice of man-- Peter! Our guests are here!"

May was nothing like Stephen expected. She was vibrant, exciteable, easygoing. Her massive glasses and high-waisted pants made her look like an absolute hipster but an undeniable motherly charm still shone in her smile.

"Just Stephen is fine, Ms.May." Stephen replied.

"Well then just May is fine." She shot back smoothly.

Stephen nodded, stepping further into the apartment. It was small, homey, full of charm. Not a single shelf was empty, not a single surface bare. Glimpses of the Parkers' life was everywhere, from a pill bottle on the table to a mass of highly graded tests stuck on the fridge. A trumpet case sat in the corner, covered in dust. An exercise bike with no handlebars stood ominously by the balcony.

"Mr.Stark! Dr.Strange!"

Peter bounded into the room, an awkward smile twisting on his face. He looked between the pair, unsure of what to do with his arms, before crossing them over his chest.

"Peter," Stephen bowed his head slightly. "You never told me how that chemistry test went."

"Oh, aced it, of course," Peter gestured to the fridge. The test at the top of the stack had a giant A written in red ink on it. "All those little name games you come up with are crazy helpful."

"I don't think I would've survived med school without those honestly. There are too many types of skin cells to memorize plainly."

Before he knew it, May and Tony were in the other room, chatting idly about who knows what. Peter gave Stephen an expectant look, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"So uh. Y'wanna see my room?" He spoke up.

"Oh. Yeah, sure."

Peter led the way and the nervousness returned. Stephen tried to swallow it down, bury it as best he could, but he was struggling. Peter threw open his door with a cocky grin, watching Stephen's face for a reaction.

"It's. Certainly a bedroom." Stephen commented.

"Here, I wanna show you what I've been working on."

Peter scrambled to his desk, yanking open a drawer and pulling out a brown bottle. He held it up to the light, shaking it slightly.

"I've been tinkering with the web fluid," He explained, offering Stephen the bottle. "It's rough trying to balance out the synthetic silk compound. The stronger the basic molecular structure gets, the more it thins out. I've been trying my best to keep it at an even level but it's so finicky--"

"That's really incredible, Peter," Stephen gushed, screwing open the lid and looking inside. "I had no clue you were the one making this, that's really amazing."

A faint flush shone on Peter's cheeks. 

"Yeah well that's the third batch I've made that still needs to be tested so hopefully the good ol' neighborhood Spider-Man will be needed again soon."

Stephen leaned in, his hands clasped behind his back. A mischievous smile crept onto his lips.

"Tony will never say this out loud but he's very proud of you. We both are. You've been doing really good work. I've got Avengers who haven't met you yet that are dying to."

"Really?!" Peter beamed. The sheer happiness on his face made Stephen's heart squeeze. "Is one of them the Hulk? Because I'm dying to meet him too, I have so much to ask Dr.Banner about his research."

"Boys! Dinner!"

Stephen glanced at the door, feeling slightly more at ease.

"Shall we?" He asked.

"Yeah, let's go," Peter replied. "May can't cook for shit so she ordered pizza. But don't let her know I told you that, she's trying her best. It's all still wildly inedible though."

Stephen snickered, following the younger Parker out his room and into the kitchen. May was balancing two pizza boxes in one hand, humming under her breath. When she spotted Stephen, her face lit up.

"There's the man I wanted to talk to!" She said sunnily. "Here Peter, go set the table for me."

Peter took the boxes and did as he was told, leaving the pair alone.

"Where's Anthony?" Stephen spoke up.

"Hm? Oh, he said something about an important call, he's out on the balcony," May put her hands on her hips, tilting her head to the side. "Peter says you've been really helping him out with his studies."

"Ah well, school is very important, I only want to do what I can to help." Stephen replied.

"And you've been keeping him safe as well?"

Panic danced around in a mad circle at the pit of Stephen's stomach. He glanced over to the dining room where Peter gave him a sharp nod.

"Y-yes of course. Tony and I do all that we can for him."

"Good! I'm glad," May grinned, moving to grab glasses and napkins. "Tony is capable and all but I've seen what you can do and you seem more..."

"Level-headed? In control? Not fatalistic?"

"Those are all good, yeah," May snickered. "Just. Please keep my nephew safe. He's all that I have."

"Of course, May, you have my word." Stephen's voice was thick with emotion. He tried to look confident however, and May seemed to relax.

"Okay, enough feelings, go grab our little drama queen so we can eat!" 

 

"Thanks for coming, guys," Peter smiled warmly. Exhaustion just barely touched the corners of his eyes. "It was real nice."

"You keep up those A's, yeah?" Tony grinned, offering a mock salute. "For everything under a B+, I'm banning you from hero work for a whole week."

"What?! But English's been kicking my ass--"

"And watch your language, young man!" Tony struggled to hide his laughter, trying to hold it back with a hand over his mouth.

"Ok, ok, yes sir, Mr.Stark sir." Peter grinned.

"I'll see you Monday, right?" Stephen cut in with an easy smile.

"Yeah, sounds good, doc."

Moving on instinct, Stephen reached out and ran his fingers through Peter's hair, giving his head a few affectionate pats. Peter's eyes went wide, something akin to unrestrained adoration sparkling in his gaze. He bowed his head slightly, leaning into the gesture.

"G' night, Petey."

"Good night, Peter!"

"Yeah, good night, guys."

When the door closed, Tony flashed his boyfriend a shit eating grin, slipping on his sunglasses despite it being after 9pm.

"I know you've said you don't wanna have kids but I mean--"

"You. Stop right there, Stark."

"Just saying! You did a damn good impression of a proud mama bird there--"

"I'm gonna open a portal into Jupiter and shove you through it."

"We're not too old for it yet--"

"Okay, I'm going home now."

Tony watched Stephen haughtily stomp down the hall and descend the stairs, a bundle of warmth and affection settling in his stomach. He reached into his pocket, thumbing the small red box there.

Soon. Not yet. But soon.


	17. New Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: mild violence, confrontation, trying my best to amend Civil War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read, listen:  
> https://youtu.be/ClhLNUPqv8Q

The halls of Avengers Tower were silent as the dead, barren of all life. Stephen made his way to the training room, his chest thrust forward, his head held high. Today was bound to be a long day.

Throwing open the doors, he made his way inside. There were a few mats strewn about, as well as a couple punching bags and abandoned weights. After the X-Men gave free passes to use their Danger Room, the much less advanced training facility in the Tower was abandoned. Stephen preferred it that way for once. He raised his hands, drawing two swooping gestures in the air. The mats tucked themselves away, the weights and bags compressing against one wall. Once the floor was completely barren, Stephen sat in the center of the room, taking lotus position. He inhaled slowly, eyes fluttering shut.

**"Speculum ruina, speculum instaurabo.** "

The air became stiff and heavy as a crack formed between the planes of reality. Stephen summoned a two way door to the Mirror Dimension. The door expanded, filling the room until it became a box. His jaw twinged from the effort but he pressed on. He created two more doors, overlapping the ones that existed in the physical room. He had a trap with two entrances and no exits.

" _ **Falsum operimentum**_."

The spiderweb cracks of reality exposing the Mirror Dimension sealed over, like wet concrete on a broken road. To an untrained eye, nothing looked different.

He was ready.

 

"Doctor?"

Steve poked his head into the training room, relaxing when he found Strange sitting on the floor. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, making his way over to his fellow Avenger.

"It's good to see you again, doctor," Steve beamed, extending his hand. "Last time we met, you were a little preoccupied."

"Yes, that was... Unfortunate," Strange scowled, accepting the handshake. That mission had been less challenging and more awkward than most others. "Thank you for coming."

"I'm gonna admit, I was shocked when you told me you wanted to spar. I know you've been trained in some martial arts but you don't seem like the hand-to-hand type."

"I'm not."

Just then, the other door flew open and Tony waltzed in, sunglasses perched on his nose with a dazzling grin on his face.

"Honey bunch! I'm so glad you finally caved in and decided to spar with m-- what the  _fuck_  is he doing here?"

Strange let out a long sigh, rubbing at his temples.

"I've brought you both here today so you can quit being absolute fucking children and sort out your feelings."

The sorcerer held up both hands, palms flat. The air crackled and shattered around him. A wall like broken glass sprung between Tony and Steve, dividing the room in half. Another gesture had the floor quaking. The air splintered again, cut horizontally. On Tony's side, a shimmering copy of Steve stood before him. On Steve's side, a copy of Tony completed the mirror image.

"What the fuck are you doing, Stephen?" Tony snarled.

"I've partially opened a gate to the Mirror Dimension," Strange replied smoothly. He moved to the end of the room, tucking his legs underneath him as he sat on the floor. "By creating a minor break between planes, I've made copies of you both. It's like a simulation but more... Solid. You can beat the fuck out of each other without actually hurting anyone."

"Why are you doing this, doctor?" Steve was trying to remain calm, speaking through his teeth.

"I'm sick and tired of being a part of a fractured team," Stephen snapped. "The Avengers need you both at the helm, working in tandem instead of bickering like fucking children. Maybe beating the shit out of each other will clear your heads."

"See, when you told me to bring my gauntlets, I was hoping there'd be some kind of kinky play fighting going on." Tony growled.

Strange simply laughed. The runes around his hands glowed brighter.

"God, you two make the exact same face when you're pissed, it's great."

With a yell, Steve lunged forward. His fist collided hard against mirror Tony's jaw. The copy staggered on his feet before taking an offensive stance, hands raised with the repulsors facing outwards. He fired a shot that barely missed Steve's head, firing the second as Steve ducked and moved in for another blow. His uppercut whistled through the air, landing perfectly in the center of mirror Tony's gut. He went sailing across the room, hitting the wall with a thud.

The real Tony saw red. He turned to his own partner, charging up his repulsors. Mirror Steve charged, his chest down, arms pumping, fists clenched. Tony knew him too well, casually sidestepping a jab and delivering a swift chop to his neck. Mirror Steve buckled before he was sent flying by a repulsor blast to the face.

Strange watched, assessing in silence.

With a strangled groan, Tony let loose a volley of short bursts, pinning mirror Steve to the wall. Blow after blow landed, creating a lattice of cracks dancing across the glass. He dashed across the floor, skidding to a stop just inches in front of the copy. The telltale whir of a charged shot cut through the air. Tony let his fist fly, the acceleration adding enough force to shatter the wall.

Magically, the Mirror Dimension knitted itself back together and the kinetic energy sent Tony stumbling back. Mirror Steve used the opportunity to swoop in, kicking out Tony's feet. He pinned him with an arm at his neck, iridescent eyes hard and cold. Tony grunted and strained, struggling beneath his hold. He shoved his arm between his back and the floor, firing off a concussive blast. The force launched the copy off his chest and onto his ass.

Meanwhile, the real Steve was dipping, diving, ducking, and dodging, his movements speedy and effortless. The fake Tony was quick, firing shot after shot, alternating between solid beams and heavy slugs. Every switch threw a new variable in Steve's defensive strategy. He found himself pinned back on the opposite wall. Looking for any weapon available, he grabbed one of the punching bags sitting nearby, holding it horizontally for cover. The repulsor blasts pushed him back a mere few inches with every blow. When there was a lull in the fire, he wound up, launching the bag and hurling it at his target.

"How are we feeling?" Stephen called over the cacophony.

"Like shit!!!" Tony yelled, parrying a punch with a flick of his wrist.

"Betrayed!!!" Steve replied, sidestepping away from a shot.

"Betrayed?!  _You_ betrayed  _me_ , Rogers!" 

"How?! I'm not the one who wanted to abandon my team's hard work for an easy way out!!"

Tony stumbled, earning a swift kick to the chest. He clutched at his Arc Reactor, gritting his teeth.

"You left us, Rogers!! You left your whole team behind!! We trusted you, relied on you, and you just  _ran_!!"

All the air left Steve's lungs. He skidded across the floor, knocked down but a concussive wave.

" _He's my friend, Tony._ "

" _I was your friend too_."

"Who are you really fighting?"

The pair looked up at Strange. He snapped his fingers and the copies warbled like TV static. Mirror Tony became Steve and mirror Steve became Tony.

"You've been fighting yourselves this whole goddamned time," Strange lamented. "That's what all this is. You refuse to be bigger than yourselves and understand you  _both_ fucked up. You  _both_  made mistakes. Neither side was evil but neither side was good."

Stranged waved his hands and the illusion crumbled. Both mirrored doppelgangers vanished. Steve and Tony found themselves nearly back to back, collapsed on the floor.

Strange turned to the captain.

"Steve. Tony feels like you left him behind. He wanted so badly to be your friend, to be your ally. To everyone else, it was like your past came back so you abandoned the future. It was like you didn't care."

Strange turned to the inventor.

"Tony. Steve has seen the atrocities done by the government. He thinks your wanting to be regulated is you giving up. He thought you were strong, that you were a changed man. Instead, he felt your decision was spineless and destructive."

Strange reached out, pulling both men to their feet. He looked exhausted, his eyes glassy and pained.

"You're fighting each other but you're also fighting yourselves. You need to look beyond how you feel now and realize that  _we all need you both_. We need our two leading men and we need them working together. The sooner you realize that the world is much bigger than some majorly flawed rivalry, the sooner we can achieve peace."

Stifiling a yawn, Strange flicked his wrist and the doors to the training room swung open. He made his way out, hands in his pockets.

"You don't need to love each other," He called over his shoulder. "But manning the fuck up and working together is a damn good start."

With that, he left, his work done.

"... You're a lucky man to have him." Steve muttered after a moment.

"If we could all be as stubbornly good as Stephen, the world would be a better place." Tony replied.

"... We should. We should talk, shouldn't we?" 

"Yeah. We should."


	18. Picture Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: superfamily, domestic bliss, good feelings

Tony woke with sunlight streaming across his face, a warm presence clinging to his back. He blinked slowly, turning his head and smiling to himself. Stephen was still fast asleep, his jaw slack, his hair fanned out beautifully across the pillows. Between the both of them was Clea, one of her tiny hands curled around Stephen's fingers, the other clinging tightly to her favorite stuffed bunny. The pair looked so peaceful, it made Tony's heart ache.

Rising slowly, he pushed back the covers, sliding out of bed as silently as possible. He made it out of the room and down the hall to the elevator.

"Good morning, sir," FRIDAY chirped. "Today is Sunday March 25th. The weather is fair at a cool 55°F, minimal cloud coverage. You have a message waiting from the Captain asking about a playdate, would you like to hear it?"

Tony waved his hand, grunting softly. The edges of sleep still drifted through his head.

" _Hey Tony. I just wanted to call and see if maybe Clea wanted to come over and hang out with Carter? He's been **begging**  to see her again and I thought maybe you and Stephen could use a little time off. We're free all day so call whenever, ok? See you then._"

Tony let a sleepy grin cross his face. A playdate sounded wonderful. He'd need to be significantly more awake before he called back however. Stumbling into the kitchen, Tony was amazed to find Peter already there, fully dressed with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Mornin', kiddo," Tony mumbled, reaching to pat at his head. "You sleep ok?"

"Huh? Yeah, yeah, I did," Peter beamed. "Some friends were gonna do a couple experiments down at Central Park so I woke up kinda early. We don't have anything planned, yeah?"

"MmmI don't think so. Steve called asking about a playdate."

"Yeah? That sounds nice, you should do it. Been a while since you and Cap hung out."

"For your sister, not me, genius."

Peter laughed, avoiding a playful swat. He watched, his gaze warm as Tony shuffled around the kitchen. He gathered bread and butter, as well as a couple eggs and cream.

"You ok there? You look stiff." Peter pursed his lips.

"Yeah, Clea had some nightmares is all. Wound up half the night with her feet in my goddamned back," Tony grumbled though his voice stayed cheery. "Next time, you're gonna help out your old man and be her monster shield,  _capiche_?"

"Can do, pops." Peter flashed him a mock salute, downing the last of his coffee in a flash.

"Good morning!"

The pair turned, smiling as Stephen made his way over with Clea on his back. She still looked half-asleep, eyes lidded, arms limp. Tony gently pinched her thigh, smirking when she swatted him away.

"Like father, like daughter," Stephen chuckled. "I live with a distinct lack of morning people."

"Mornings suck, it's a fact of nature," Peter replied. He zipped up his hoodie, grabbing his wallet and keys from the counter. "Alright, I'm out! See you in a couple hours!"

Peter hopped out, dropping a wet kiss on Clea's cheek as he went. She muttered something unintelligible under her breath, shaking herself awake.

"Morning, sweetpea," Tony crooned, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "Welcome to the land of the living."

"'mmwaffles."

"You heard the princess," Stephen laughed as he moved her from his back to his arms, craddling her close. "Chop chop, chef!"

"Chop chop, daddy." Parroted Clea.

Tony scoffed, turning his nose away dramatically. He set aside the toast, grabbing what he needed to make waffles. It was a slow day anyways, he had more than enough time to make a nice treat.

"Clea, honey, how does a playdate with Carter sound?" Tony asked as he worked.

"I heard Steve's message." Stephen smiled, watching as Clea settled at the counter.

"Carter's daddy is scary." 

Tony choked on his own spit, trying his best not to lose his composure. Stephen's eyes went wide, his lips pressed tightly together.

"Carter's daddy is.... Intense." Supplied Stephen. "You remember what intense means?"

"Yeah," Clea propped up her chin in her hands, crystal blue eyes wide. "That's okay then. I wanna play with Carter today."

"Alright, can do. FRIDAY? Text Steve that we're on for a playdate, yeah?"

"Can do, sir. Message sent."

Stephen hummed to himself, crossing the floor to the coffee machine. He wound his arm around his husband's waist, kissing his cheek warmly. His wedding band glinted in the soft light as he reached for a mug.

"How we doing today, hm?" He whispered, nuzzling the salt and pepper hair at Tony's temple.

"Better, thanks babe," Tony sighed. "Old scars acting up again but. Better."

Stephen reached forward, cupping the center of Tony's chest. Their scars aligned, lines of raised skin intersecting with the pale circle above Tony's sternum. 

"It's been years but it still feels so... Weightless."

"Mm. I'm sure. You don't sound so horrible at night anymore, it's wonderful."

"Papaaa! You're distracting daddy from important cooking!!"

Stephen turned, his blue-green eyes bright and playful.

"Am I now?" Stephen beamed. "Who's gonna stop me, huh?"

He lunged, scooping Clea up in his arms. He twirled her around, her tinkling laughter bouncing off the walls. At the back of his mind, Tony was amazed she was already four years old. She was too sharp for her own good, just as bright as her fathers. Tony turned back to his waffles, flipping one onto a plate. It smelled like heaven, filling his lungs with sweetly scented steam.

"You're gonna need a trim soon, starshine," Stephen gushed, pushing back Clea's golden bangs. "You look like a wildebeest."

"I'm like a wild woman!" Clea replied, throwing her arms into the air and letting out a squeaky howl. "Like Mr.Beast!"

"I'm sure Mr.Beast will love to know that's how you see him." The sarcasm dripped down Stephen's words, entirely missed on Clea's part.

"Breakfast!" 

Tony set down the plate, his heart fit to burst. Clea's face lit up like the sun as Stephen set her back on her stool. She grabbed a fork, ready to dig in. Tony propped his hip against the counter, watching with an adoring gaze.

"Oh, Clea, sweetie. Do you uh. Want to talk about the bad dreams you had?"

Stephen shot him a look, eyebrows raised. They waited for her to finish chewing before she replied.

" **Maybe hit him again, that'll snap him out of it.** " She said.

"Wh-what did you say?" All the air left Tony's lungs, like a swift punch to the gut. "St-stephen, what the hell did she just say?!"

His husband turned, eyes glassy and distant. He opened his mouth and a chill ran down Tony's spine.

" **Dammit, Stark, wake the fuck up!** "

 

Tony jolted awake. He was on his side in the mud, rain water streaming down his face. His helmet was across the path, thrown like trash. Wolverine and Ice-Man were bent over him, watching with wide eyes. The mission. The fight. The X-Men. He'd been hit. Hard.

"Wuh-- what the fuck--" Tony spluttered, trying his best to stand. Even with the assistance of the Iron Man suit, his legs were trembling.

"Mesmero got a damn good grip on your brain," Wolverine growled, claws unsheathed. "We've been trying to snap you out of it for five minutes."

"Kitty's been keeping him busy," Ice-Man cut in, looking anxious. "He can't influence her mind when she's phasing all over the place."

Tony made a strangled noise. For every moment he became more conscious, more of the fantasy faded away. It was so real, so genuine, so close. Losing it was like losing an entire other life. His heart was pounding, shuddering against the Arc Reactor's plate. He stood on shaky legs, a cocktail of emotions fit to make him sick.

"H-hhh-hand me my fu-fucking helmet," Tony stammered through gritted teeth. "I'll fucking k-kk-kill that bastard."

Ice-Man did as he was told, skittering to the helmet and handing it over. Tony snapped it into place, a vein throbbing in his jaw.

"You gonna be ok?" Wolverine huffed.

"When he's dead, I'll be fucking ok."

Tony shot across the ground towards Mesmero with the lingering smell of waffles on his mind.


	19. The Big Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: f e e l i n g s

Running Stark Industries was simultaneously harder and easier than most people thought. At least that's what Pepper told herself.

She'd practically been running it even before Tony passed her the reigns, having every schedule, meeting, business partner, and event memorized by heart. She knew nearly every employee's name, every password to every line of important information, and anything else that would be necessary for a CEO to know. Honestly, the hardest part was working with Tony. He meant well but his work habits, despite his massive chatacter devlopmemt over the years, were still often lacking.

"Miss Potts? Mr.Stark is here to see you."

Pepper groaned, thumbing the intercom.

"Can you tell him to kindly buzz off? It's 6:00pm, I have a date with a long hot shower and a soft bed."

"Sounds risky, I'd say take a rain check."

Pepper looked up, a knot of frustration building in her throat. Tony was casually leaning in the doorway, sunglasses perched on his nose, the building's master key swinging on his finger.

"I really shouldn't be able to bypass security like that, you should have it revamped."

"I did," Pepper growled. "You keep hacking it anyways."

"Shame."

Tony sauntered across the floor, taking in the room around him. His old office was unrecognizable, the walls painted a soft blue, the carpet stripped away for dark tile. Artwork, mostly nature themed, was hung everywhere. The desk was pristine and well organized. The very air smelled faintly of vanilla sugar cookies.

"I'm clocking out, Tony," Pepper huffed. "You can't just walk in here and expec--"

"I'm gonna do it."

Pepper stopped, halfway through typing in her password to shut off her computer. Tony pushed his glasses up his forehead, his eyes swimming with emotion. He pulled a small box from his pocket, one covered in red velvet. When Pepper leaned in, he popped it open, revealing a ring inside. It was a white gold band with a circle of tiny diamonds running around it.

"The metal is the last shred of my first official Iron Man suit," Tony's voice was wistful and warm. "The diamonds-- Stephen visited this one planet, he said was actual fucking paradise, and he brought back these bioluminescent rocks. I uh. I've been putting them under immense heat and pressure for about four years now, since he gave them to me, and made these little gems-- they glow in the dark."

"Oh Tony, it's beautiful." Gushed Pepper, her eyes alight with childlike charm.

"You think so?"

"Oh god, it's absolutely gorgeous, I mean it."

"Good," Tony swallowed thickly. "He deserves the best these hands can create."

"What's your plan? To propose, I mean."

"That's the problem, Peps," Tony groaned, leaning against the desk. "I. I don't know how. How would  _you_  want someone to propose?"

Pepper thought for a moment, the faintest flush coloring her cheeks.

"Well... I'd want it to be genuine. Romantic. Heartfelt. Something with effort put into it," She tried not to think about her own relationship, fantasies she'd never imagined blossoming behind her eyes. "But it should be tailored to what you two want, not me. How do you think  _Stephen_  wants it to be done?"

"Stephen... Hm. He's a dramatic son of a bitch, just like me, but... Only when it comes to hero work," Tony turned the little box over in his hand, admiring how the band caught the soft light of the office. "When it's just us... He's more lowkey. Refined, I guess. But he's also an absolute dork, it's almost stupid how sentimental he is sometimes."

Tony snapped his fingers, his eyes brightening.

"I've got it!"

Leaning across the desk, Tony dropped a wet kiss on Pepper's cheek, making her giggle. He tapped her nose, grinning broadly. He looked years younger, the lines under his eyes vanishing in the afterglow of his delight.

"I'll text you the details after, I swear. Give Christine my love! Thanks, Peps!"

With that, he darted out of the room, leaving Pepper to shake her head, smiling to herself. As long as Tony was in her life, there would never be a dull moment.

 

It didn't take long at all for Tony to gather his supppies. He bought the biggest most picnic worthy blanket money could buy, along with a stunningly beautiful wicker basket to complete the aesthetic. He set up an order for pizza from Stephen's favorite mom-and-pop shop to be delievered. He planned to bring the same champagne they'd both shared that fateful night so many years ago, laid out under the stars with bubbles in their throats and fireworks in their eyes.

Tony shuddered, flexing his fingers against the steering wheel. How long had it been now? Nearly five years. Peter was twenty, Thor and Bruce were dating, Steve and Bucky were happy together, the Avengers were flourishing. Dreams he'd never even pondered had come true.

Now he had just one more fantasy to bring to life.

"Sweetheart!! Come oooout!!" Tony pulled the car over, sticking his head out the window and laying into his horn. Bleecker street was barren, as it always was, so he had no qualms with being loud. "C'mon, Stephie, I'm gonna be an old ass man if you don't hurry up!!"

"Maybe one day, you'll learn patience is a virtue," Stephen shot back, dashing down the Sanctuary stairs and rounding the car. He hopped inside, smiling brightly. "Why are you in such a hurry anyways?"

"Oh, y'know, just eager to spend a day off with the love of my life."

Tony leaned in, dropping the softest, sweetest, most affectionate kiss he could on Stephen's lips. The sorcerer mirrored his gesture, brow quirked inquisitively.

"... Are you feeling ok?" Stephen cupped his lover's forehead, searching for a fever. "Open your eyes wide, let me check for dilation--"

"I'm in a good mood for once and this is how you react? I'm hurt, Strange, genuinely wounded."

"The last time you acted this consciously chipper, you were trying to hide the fact that you were dying."

Tony had the wherewithal to look sheepish, easing his car back into the road with his shoulders hunched.

"I'm just. Happy. I promise, no secrets, no lies, just. Actually happy."

Stephen sighed, running a hand through his hair. His smile was tired but warm. He laid his hand atop Tony's, chuckling under his breath when Tony flipped his hand over to intertwine their fingers. 

"So," Stephen broke the silence, watching the traffic ahead. "What's the plan today?"

"We're gonna take it easy," Tony's gaze was wistful. "We've worked so fucking hard the past month, I thought it'd be nice to just. Take a break for once. No inventing, no sorcerer-ing, none of that. You, me, maybe a movie, a nice dinner. Good wholesome proper legit nice relaxed, what the fuck is going on over there."

Stephen followed Tony's eyes to the road in front of them. Something was causing a ruckus further down the street. Rolling down the window, Tony stuck his head out of the car. He squinted through the glare of the late afternoon sun, shielding his eyes with his hand.

"It looks like... Construction?" Tony muttered. He fished around for his sunglasses, sliding them on one-handed. The HUD flickered on, zooming and enhancing with the wave of his fingers. "There's... Aw shit."

Tony sat back in his seat, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel.

"What? What is it? What's going on?" Stephen looked concerned, popping his head out the window to look for himself.

"It's some fucking B list villains," Tony growled. "I can see Juggernaut for sure. I bet the idiot jumping around is Toad. Don't they usually terrorize the X-Dicks? Why are they here? Now? Today? At this moment?"

Stephen watched his boyfriend babble, eyebrows raised.

"... When we get home, I'm running every test possible on you and you can't stop me." He decreed.

"I have a fucking reservation, I don't have time to stop these morons," Tony threw his hands up. "And I  _know_  everyone else is busy--"

While he monologued, a car flew down the road, tossed with immense velocity. Another followed quickly after, shooting down the street before kicking up asphalt. Stephen unlocked the car door, slipping out with a sigh.

"Just. Stay here. Don't do anything stupid." He commanded before flying into the fray.

Tony punched the edge of the steering wheel, gritting his teeth. It was 5:54. The pizza would be delivered in six minutes to their spot in the heart of Central Park. They were stuck only a few blocks away. Damn Stephen and his sense of duty. 

With a frustrated groan, Tony shifted the car into park, climbing out and making his way down the street. He toggled his watch, unfolding his right-hand repulsor. The gauntlet and his glasses synched immediately, the lenses tinting from gold to red. They locked in on the carnage, focusing on Juggernaut, Toad, Blob, and Sabretooth. For a moment, Tony wondered why such an odd team even assembled. He shook away the thought, priming his repulsor.

" _I summon forth the Rubies of Rosenthor--_ "

Tony yelped, covering his eyes. He'd seen that spell in action before and had been blind for an entire week because of it. A flash crept into the fringes or his vision. When he looked back, the squad of baddies were stumbling around, hands over their eyes, wailing into the sky.

"See?"

Tony glanced up. Stephen was floating above him with a bright smile on his face.

"Easy peasy--"

The sorcerer vanished. Somehow, Blob had gotten his bearings, hurling a car at Stephen. He was sent flying, skittering down the road.

"Oh don't you fucking dare," Tony hissed, raising his hand. "Today was supposed to be fucking perfect!"

He let loose a blast, elated when it hit its mark. Blob stumbled, properly discombobulated from a knock to the cranium. The other villains scattered, realizing it was an uneven fight despite their numbers. Tony rushed to Stephen's side before even confirming they'd left.

"Stephie?!" He called, panic creeping into his voice.

He found the car, a neon blue Kia, and knocked it away with a well aimed repulsor blast. Stephen was cocooned within the protective embrace of his Cloak. When he lifted his head, Tony could only see a faint bruise above his brow as evidence of the blow.

"Are you ok?" Tony begged, dropping to his knees.

"A little winded but fine," Stephen replied, letting his boyfriend look him over. "I had a split second to react which saved me."

Sighing heavily, Tony leaned into Stephen, burying his face in his lover's neck. A hand with its familiar subtle tremor stroked through his hair, nails light against his scalp. He could hear Stephen muttering something under his breath. The air felt slightly cooler and the quake in his heart lessened.

"C'mon," Stephen finally spoke. "Let's help clean up."

 

It took about two hours to fix the mess. With every other Avenger busy, progress was slow. Tony had to call in his suit, delicately moving cars onto the road and through the wreckage, patching up asphalt as he went. Stephen was attending to injured civilians, passing the more critical ones through a portal to the hospital. By the time they finished, the sun had set and the moon had risen. Stars twinkled overhead. Tony swore they were mocking him.

"Looks like we're good here," Stephen floated over, offering up his best tired smile. "I'm fucking beat. Can we go home now?"

Tony wrung his hands, stuffing them into his pockets. His fingers stroked across the velvet box he'd tucked away there. Maybe today was meant to be a fluke after all. With a defeated sigh, he nodded.

"Let's... Just go home and order delivery."

"There's a Chinese place that just opened up that I'm dying to try," Stephen perked up, drawing up a portal that led right to their bedroom. "Egg foo young sounds so good right now."

 

It was 9:00 by the time the pair was eating dinner. The wait was worth it even if Tony had ordered a near buffet to stave off his anger. They had lo mein, crab rangoon, Mongolian beef, general Tso's chicken, egg foo young, and enough Thai iced tea to last a lifetime. They ate in various states of undress, Stephen kitted out in his pajamas and Tony in dress pants and a tank top.

"You've got sauce on your chin," Stephen chuckled, shoving a napkin in his boyfriend's face. "How old are you again? Jesus christ, you're a mess."

"But I'm  _your_  mess." Tony replied on instinct.

"Yeah. You are. And I wouldn't want you any other way."

Tony swallowed thickly. He watched Stephen's profile as he ate, wielding his chopsticks like a pro. The soft lines under his eyes and at the corners of his mouth were so familiar. The kiss of silver at his temples hadn't grown in years. His eyes were warm and bright, his voice deep and smooth, his hands scarred but undeniably where Tony put his very life without hesitation. A soothing air of domesticity washed over him. After a day of work and unimaginable happenstance, they always found each other at the end of all things. Stephen felt like home, and that felt so right.

Tony's heart raced. Now was the time.

"Stephen," Tony spoke up, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "You know I love you, right?"

"... Yes. Of course." He replied.

"I do. I love you a whole fucking lot. You. You compliment me like no one else ever has-- you  _get_  me. I've never felt so. So. So at home with anyone before in my life. When I see you, I can breathe again. I know I'm safe. I know everything's gonna be okay."

Stephen's eyes widened. He set down his chopsticks, turning in his seat. It was clear he wanted to speak but he kept his mouth closed.

"I was a fucking disaster before we got together-- I still am, honestly," Tony let out a bitter laugh, though affection softened his smile. "But like the incredible doctor you are, you've helped me heal. You never tried to fix me, you only helped me on my own path. You are. You are the single most intelligent, kindest, genuine, wonderful, amazing, jackass of a human being I've ever had the honor to wake up next to."

Tony's heart was hammering in his chest, ricocheting off of the Arc Reactor and echoing in his ears.

He dropped to one knee and held out the tiny velvet box. When it opened, the ring inside caught the light, casting an ethereal glow.

"Stephen Vincent Strange. Will you marry me?"

Stephen skipped laughing and jumped straight to crying. He nodded, the words caught in his throat, before surging forward and enveloping Tony in a tight hug. They held each other for what felt like a lifetime.

"Yes, of course, a thousand times yes," Stephen stammered. "Let's get fucking married today, right now, waiting is bullshit."

"Yeah I don't think either of us actually want that," Tony laughed brightly. "We're both too goddamned dramatic and obsessed with our image for a shotgun wedding."

"Fuck it. Fuck it all."

Tony laughed harder, his heart fit to burst. Had he ever been this happy in his entire life? Maybe not.

"I had this whole thing planned," He bemoaned, tightening his grip around Stephen's waist. "I had a blanket and champagne and pizza from that dingy place you love down the street--"

"That's why you were in such a rush-- I  _knew_ you were up to something."

"It was gonna be the proposal of a fucking lifetime. Fireworks, drinks, tears, romantic music, the works."

Stephen pulled back a fraction, tears trickling down his cheeks as Tony slipped the ring onto his shaking finger. The white gold stood out like a band of sunlight against his olive skin. The tiny gemstones glowed a faint bluish purple, like the smouldering depths of space. It was so Tony but also so Stephen, like a marriage in it of itself. He could still remember that Tony from an alternate timeline, the one wrinkled with age who still bloomed in the arms of his lover. The one who promised him a one in a billion ring. 

He wasn't wrong.

"This is perfect, Tony. Absolutely perfect."


	20. Stranger Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: bonding time, action

"Don't you hate getting missions like this?"

Stephen looked away from the horizon, his concentration resolute.

"How so?"

"I dunno," Spider-Man shrugged, firing off another web shot. He watched it arc through the air, landing perfectly on a Stop sign down below. "This feels less like hero work and more like.... Babysitting."

Stephen looked back at the horizon, flexing his fingers. He watched the pulsing ball of magic energy above them, how it caught the golden light of the late-afternoon sun. Within its hold was a swarm of rabid rat-bird hybrids, seething and growling as they futilely tried to escape. Some crackpot mad scientist had unleashed them onto the streets of Brooklyn. Spider-Man had sent out a call and the only one who came was Doctor Strange himself. Now they sat on a rooftop, waiting for backup to escort the mass of abominations away from the city.

"I... Guess. I don't really see it that way," Stephen leaned in, grinning mischievously. "You'd be surprised at how much bullshit I have to put up with as Sorcerer Supreme."

"Really??" Peter pulled back his mask, revealing the child-like grin underneath. "I thought like, you'd fight aliens on a regular basis and all that cool stuff."

"Psh-- if only. I do a lot of diplomatic work. Attend a lot of meetings. Fall asleep during a  _lot_  of them. The other sorcerers think I'm on some higher plane, meditating all the time, but I'm actually asleep."

Peter laughed, loud and bright.

"Ok, that definitely makes me feel a lot better," He sighed. "I'm always worried I'm being babied because I'm the youngest."

"Oh no, no no no, we all know you have great potential, Peter," Stephen grew serious for a moment, his brow knitting. "You have immense power and a sense of control those of us with abilities are often jealous of. We just... Get slow days a lot between y'know. Major worldwide disasters."

Peter beamed. He opened his mouth to say something, only to stop. He narrowed his eyes, suddenly yanking down his mask and grabbing at Stephen's sleeve.

"Duck!!!"

A lone rat-bird descended, aiming right for the eyes. Peter managed to pull them both out of the way, drawing back to shoot it down. He hit his mark but nearly toppled off the roof in the process. Stephen broke his focus, lunging forward to catch Peter by the scruff of his neck. In hindsight, he was sure the infamous Spider-Man could no doubt save himself from a fall off of a five story building, but instinct often reigned over logic.

With a horrifying shriek, the seal broke and the rat-birds were free.

"Shit!" Stephen seethed, helping Peter back to his feet. "I need you to knit a net-- can you do that? A huge one, as big as physically possible."

Peter simply nodded, leaping off the roof and flipping onto the street below. He darted back and forth across the street, connecting a lattice of webbing between the buildings. It didn't take long before he constructed a massive sticky blanket, tightly woven and nigh impenetrable. 

"Ready to roll, Doc!" Peter called, clinging to the brick and watching the madness above him.

Stephen flitted through the air, summoning as many shields as he possibly could. He joined them together to create a massive scoop-like formation, corralling the heathens into a dense ball of wings and fangs. Gritting his teeth, he slowly moved the congregation downwards, pinning the mass of vermin between his array of shields and Peter's net.

"I'll hold them," Stephen barked. "You take the corners and tie it all up!"

Peter sprung, loosening his supports and taking them in hand. He leapt onto the shield, cinching the net into a tight bag. The shield disappeared but the rat-birds remained contained in Peter's webbed trap.

"There," Stephen descended, stumbling slightly when he hit the ground. A few beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. "I didn't think that'd be so exhausting. You really handled that like a pro."

"Thanks, Doc." Peter kept his mask on, hiding the flush that spread across his face.

"Can I trust you to watch this for a few minutes?"

Peter nodded, watching as Stephen summoned a portal and stepped through it. While he waited, he hefted up the webbing prison, dropping it onto a roof and sitting beside it. Stephen reappeared moments later with an ice cream cone in either hand.

"I have a feeling we might be here for a while," He grinned, passing the chocolate dipped one to Peter. "Might as well reward ourselves."

"Oh wow, thanks," Peter took the treat, biting off the chocolatey tip and chewing thoughtfully. "Y'know, my first team up with everyone else involved a lot of like. Lecturing."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Stephen replied, licking up a stripe of chocolate ice cream. "I remember being young and underestimated. You can only handle being reminded how much of a novice you are so many times until you're ready to snap."

"Being a superhero?"

"I was thinking more when I became a surgeon," Stephen's smile turned melancholy for a moment. "I was a bright kid, just like you. I had to hear a lot of bullshit from a lot of old geezers who thought they knew better just because they were old. I hated them. I didn't wanna be like them. I wound up being that same brand of jackass later down the line but..."

Stephen sniffled suddenly, turning back to the sunset.

"You deserve a break, you work too damn hard to be put down all the time."

Peter blinked owlishly, licking ice cream off of his hand. He watched Stephen for a moment, the mysterious aura shrouding the older hero growing slightly. Smiling to himself, Peter looked towards the horizon.

"Next time we have to partner up, I call dibs on you, Doc."


	21. Spin Me 'Round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: songfic, domestic bliss, fluff

 

Stephen wanted to stay here forever.

He snapped his fingers, relighting the stick of incense from his place in the tub. Another snap had the bath reheated, nearly hot enough to burn but still be soothing. The aches of the week were slowly melting away. 

Monday, he had a meeting on an alternate plane of Earth where, instead of singing, birds screeched dial-up internet call noises, people headbutt instead of shaking hands, and all reflections were flipped upside down. His migraine still hadn't faded fully.

Tuesday, he had to singlehandedly defend the entirety of Kamar Taj when a time demon froze everyone else in the temple.

Wednesday, he was stuck at an Avengers charity event entertaining children for at least seven hours despite  _imploring_  how terrible he was with kids.

Thursday, he didn't get a single second of sleep, given the task to watch an ancient seal for twenty-four hours while the appointed guardsman got some rest.

Friday, he and the Avengers worked tirelessly to defend New York from an invasion of sentient mushroom men, then immediately had to clean up the mess themselves.

Now it was Saturday and peace reigned in the Stark-Strange household.

Stephen had spent the day doing things at his own pace. He diligently repaired his Cloak where it had frayed, caught up on some recreational reading, tried (and failed) to make a cake, and now was luxuriating in a nice long bath. It wasn't until his hands and feet had gotten pruney did he realize he hadn't seen Tony since they'd woken up.

"FRIDAY?" He called, swiping bubble bath out of his goatee. "Where's Tony?"

"Master Stark has been in his workshop since 8:00am this morning," The AI replied. The faintest twinge of disdain crept into her voice. "He's had three cups of black coffee and half a croissant."

Muttering under his breath, Stephen unstoppered the drain and clambered out of the tub. He dried off in a hurry, throwing on a pair of Tony's sweats and a tank top. The pants were a little tight around the thighs and didn't exactly reach his ankles but it didn't matter.

He descended the stairs to the foyer, then to the workshop. Peering through the glass, he could easily see Tony at work, classic rock playing softly overhead, a variety of tools spread across his desk. Stephen punched in the security code, stepping inside with a disapproving look on his face.

"Good morning, Anythony." Stephen spoke up.

Tony stopped what he was doing, his soldering iron sparking in his hand. He flipped back his visor, looking up with his brows furrowed.

"... Huh. It's uh. It's not morning anymore." He stated.

"Yup. Crazy how that happens. Day and night and all that stuff."

Tony winced, turning around to face his fiancé. Depsite his predicament, a faint flush spread across his cheeks.

"... You're wearing my clothes."

"Yeah? It's not that uncommon of me to do."

Tony flipped the visor back down, returning to his work.

"Those pants are just uh a little tighter than the others usually fit." Tony finished.

Stephen sighed heavily through his nose, watching as Tony tried his best to ignore him. 

"Anthony, it's 10:00pm. You've been working non-stop for fourteen hours."

"Pfft-- you act like that's a lot," Tony snorted. "You haven't seen me at my worst, babe, I've had week long work binges."

"Don't. Don't brag about being unhealthy, you egomaniac."

Tony didn't reply, adjusting his grip on the soldering iron and welding one-handed. He pulled out a wrench with the other, loosening a bolt simultaneously. It was bad enough when he spent so much time on hero work. Watching him toil away on a personal project without pause was somehow worse.

"FRIDAY? Play some good dance music please." Stephen asked the ceiling.

"Of course, Dr.Strange." She replied.

The drums started up, followed by a classically 80's bass line. Stephen watched Tony, trying to gauge his reactions under the visor, but got nothing. Tapping his foot to the beat, he waited. 

 

_If I, I get to know your name  
Well if I, could trace your private number, baby_

 

"Why does this sound different?" Stephen asked. "It sounds nothing like  _Dead or Alive_."

"It's a cover. By a comedy band." Tony shot back. 

He flipped back his visor, eyes going wide. Stephen was swaying to the beat, eyes bright and shimmering. He mouthed along with the lyrics.

 

_All I know is that to me_   
_You look like you're lots of fun_   
_Open up your lovin' arms_   
_I want some, want some_

 

Stephen held out his hand, beckoning for Tony to join him. The inventor rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He didn't move from his spot but he did shut off his iron and set his tools aside, watching Stephen closely.

 

_I set my sights on you (and no one else will do)  
And I, I've got to have my way now, baby_

Moving forward, Stephen gingerly pulled off the visor, grinning when Tony leaned back to look up at him. His hips swirled in languid figure eights, his feet light on every step. Tony was shocked at how naturally he moved.

"C'mon, darling," Stephen watched as Tony reddened at the nickname. "You deserve a break."

When Tony still didn't budge from his spot, Stephen stepped back and danced by himself. 

 

_All I know is that to me_  
_You look like you're having fun_  
 _Open up your lovin' arms_  
 _Watch out here I come_

 

With a dramatic sigh, Tony finally caved in, rising from the floor and sidling over. Stephen laughed warmly, extending his hand. Tony took it, letting out a squawk as Stephen twirled him in a tight circle and pulled him close. They stood back to front with Stephen's arms wound around Tony's chest and waist, his hips pressed flush against Tony's lower back.

_You spin me right round, baby_  
_Right round like a record, baby_  
 _Right round round round_  
 _You spin me right round, baby_  
 _Right round like a record, baby_  
 _Right round round round_

 

Stephens singing wasn't nearly as good as his dancing. He spoke the lyrics mostly, his bassy timbre battling with the singer's flawless harmonies. 

"How are you so good at this?" Tony giggled, letting himself be lead across the floor. "Was dance an elective at med school?"

"Pfft-- I wish," Stephen gripped Tony's hand, spinning him forward. "Instead of boring old classical music, I'd listen to more fun songs in sugery. I'd rather dance in the operating room rather than fall asleep."

Tony laughed brightly at the image of Stephen in a surgical mask and gloves, waltzing through the hospital with a scalpel in one hand and a bone saw in the other. 

 

_I got to be your friend now, baby  
And I would like to move in just a little bit closer_

 

Tony took the lead, wrapping an arm around Stephen's waist to dip him back. They both laughed, catching a bad case of the giggles as they spun around the workshop. Stephen caught a few glimpses of DUMM-E and Butterfingers swaying their servos to the rhythm, like robotic backup dancers.

"This definitely makes me feel a bit better," Tony smiled. "Good to know you'll be absolutely showing the hell off when we dance at the wedding."

Stephen inhaled sharply. His heart seemed to stop altogether. He glanced at their hands, intertwined, and the engagement ring glinting between them.

"Yeah." He replied intelligently.

"Yeah?"

_All I know is that to me_  
_You look like you're lots of fun_  
 _Open up your lovin' arms_  
 _Watch out, here I come_

"You ok?" Tony looked concerned, his head tilted, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, yeah, just. A little starstruck at the thought of marriage."

Tony smiled sweetly. He leaned in for a kiss, pressing his palms against Stephen's spine. Their lips met, warm and soft and slightly wet. Tony laughed when Stephen playfully bit his lower lip, craning his head to drop a sticky kiss on Stephen's neck.

"I am too."

 

_Right round like a record, baby_   
_Right round round round_   
_You spin me right round, baby_   
_Right round like a record, baby_   
_Right round round round_

_I want your love_   
_I want your love_


	22. Heat of the Moment (but not the song)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: very nsfw, humor, engagement sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by my own art right here:  
> https://doobler.tumblr.com/post/172770570876/stephen-im-too-gay-for-this-shit-strange

"Whoa whoa whoa!"

Tony laughed, his smile manic, his eyes wide. Stephen smirked at him, pressing his hand to the center of his chest and pushing him into the workshop's only armchair. He dropped to his knees, nestling between Tony's thighs.

"If I knew pizza got you this hard, this fast, I'd offer it more often--"

Tony gasped, digging his fingers into the leather softened with age. Stephen yanked down his jeans' zipper with a flick of his finger, using magic to pull the pants down to his ankles. Tony flushed at the obvious tent in his boxers. He swallowed thickly, his spine tense.

"May I?" Stephen fluttered his eyelashes. His voice sounded innocent but his eyes burned with an intensity to rival that of the sun.

Tony could only nod, gritting his teeth as Stephen pulled down his boxers and wound a hand around his stiff cock. No hand in his life had felt like Stephen's, the unnatural array of scars and calluses lending to an odd but not unwelcome sensation. His grip was hot, his fingers deft, every motion familiar but thrilling. Tony yelped as Stephen ducked his head, rubbing the coarse hairs of his goatee against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

"I'm sorry if this is all. Aggressive," Stephen's breath came hot against Tony's length, making the younger man purr. "It's just. Seeing you so casual, so effortlessly gorgeous takes my fucking breath away."

"I-I'm sweaty and covered in grease--"

"You look like fucking Eros reborn, Anthony, I can barely contain myself right now."

Tony gasped, trying his best not to jump to his feet when Stephen's mouth, hot, wet, and all encompassing, descended upon him. His tongue expertly traced along a throbbing vein, stroking against the slit, laving every inch he had. He easily swallowed half of his length, his throat squeezing around the head. Tony bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Fuck fuck fuck--" Tony uttered like a prayer. "Holy shit, Stephie, you're gonna fucking kill me--"

Stephen huffed a laugh, sinking down Tony's cock until his nose was flush against his skin. He smelled like sweat, musk, and metal, the salt and bitterness of precum exploding across Stephen's tongue. He hummed when Tony carded his hand through his hair, tugging gently. A shudder raced down Stephen's spine. 

"I could do this for the rest of my life." Stephen panted, licking a stripe up Tony's cock. 

"I sure hope s-so," Tony replied, his grin shaky. He eyed the pale gold ring glittering on Stephen's finger. "If they're all gonna be like this, I humbly request m-more--"

Tony tossed his head back, letting loose a moan from deep within his chest. Stephen repeated the motion, sucking harder on Tony's balls. The scruff of his goatee was driving Tony wild, making him squirm and thrash.

"Y-you-you'd be amazed at h-h-hhhow often I  _haven't_  had th-thhh-this," Tony gasped, shuddering as Stephen pulled back, his lips shiny with spit. "The fffffew times I've been with guys, usually  _I'm_ the one g-giving."

"Then I've got a lot to catch up on." Stephen replied, his voice low and gravelly.

Stephen wrapped his lips around Tony's dick, sinking down to the base in one smooth motion. He stroked the shaft with the flat of his tongue, swallowing rhythmically as precum trickled down his throat. He looked up to Tony with wide blue-green eyes, tilting his head into his fiancé's hand. Tony looked confused for a moment, only to inhale sharply.

" _Oh_." He commented.

Spreading his legs wider, Tony buried his hands in Stephen's wild hair, gripping his head gingerly. He led Stephen back, until his cock was flush against his lips, before guiding him back down his length. Stephen relaxed, his eyelids fluttering shut, his jaw going lax. He looked absolutely sinful like this, his hair untamed, his lips spread around Tony, his eyelashes like fans against his cheeks. For a moment, something akin to sentiment crossed Tony's heart.

"You know how much I love dirty talk," Tony muttered, rolling his hips to thrust shallowly down Stephen's throat. "But I honestly can't fucking talk right now, I can barely think--"

Stephen hummed in agreement, opening his eyes to meet Tony's gaze. Unabashed adoration glimmered in his stare. Tony shuddered. 

Getting a better hold, Tony drew Stephen back, pulling him down his length again. He repeated the stroke over and over, slowly speeding up, watching his cock disappear down Stephen's mouth then reappear slick with spit. It wasn't long before he lost himself, roughly fucking Stephen's throat. The wet sounds of sex filled the workshop, making Tony groan. They'd been so busy the past month, between work and planning the wedding, that their actual relationship seemed to have been on ice. Now it had thawed, burnt away by the red hot coals of arousal.

"Oh baby, fuck, shit, honey, I'm close--" Tony grunted, fucking down the wet vice of Stephen's throat. "Where, where should I--"

Stephen blinked rapidly, reaching up to wind his fingers around Tony's wrists. He urged him on, silently consenting. Tony beamed before his eyes screwed shut and his jaw fell open. He gave one last hard thrust before going still. Wave after wave of hot seed poured down Stephen's throat. He swallowed every drop, maintaining the seal of his lips as not to let any escape. Even when Tony fell back, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to regain his breath, Stephen diligently licked him clean. He only pulled away when Tony was too soft and oversensitive, twitching in his seat.

"Fuck," Stephen panted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I think we both needed that."

Tony muttered incoherently, lifting his hand to gesture Stephen closer. He rose from his knees, cringing at the ache, before sitting on the chair's arm and leaning in.

"Yes, darling?" Stephen crooned.

"Oh ok yeah," Tony flushed, his eyes wide. "I'm definitely repaying you now-- c'mon, switch with me."

"Tony, you don't have to--"

Tony ignored him, sliding off the seat and onto his knees. Stephen took his place, spreading his legs wide and sinking back. His heart hammered in his chest. Tony was a very considerate lover but, despite his propensity to use his mouth more than he needed to, oral wasn't something he offered often. He leaned towards sleepy eyed 3am handjobs or wild passionate sex at random without much in between.

"You have to teach me that magic pants thing you did," Tony grumbled, his fingers clumsy as they tried to unzip Stephen's fly. "That's super handy."

"You've been begging me not to teach you magic and now you want to learn so you can get my pants off faster," Stephen laughed, his cheeks turning red. "Good to know where your priorities lie."

"You aren't surprised, don't act like it."

Stephen grinned, his swagger diminishing slightly when Tony yanked down his pants and briefs simultaneously. His cock sprang from its confines, bobbing eagerly. Tony eyed him up and down like a starving man and a five star meal. 

"This is when you say a cheesy doctor pick up line like 'open wide' or 'say aaah'." Tony smirked.

"Tony, please suck me off already. I'm so hard, I'm in pain."

Tony's eyes went wide. He nodded to himself, planting his palms on either of Stephen's thighs. He took his entire length in one slow stroke, making Stephen groan. He swallowed a few times, squeezing around Stephen at the back of his throat. 

"Ohhh shit," Stephen sighed, stroking a hand through Tony's hair. "Why don't we do this more often?"

"You like this?" Tony pulled back with a wet pop. "I thought you liked giving more--"

"I swear on my life I would not be upset if you blew me more. I  _swear_."

Tony had the gall to giggle, his eyes practically sparkling with delight. Pushing his hair back, he resumed his ministrations, bobbing up and down Stephen's cock. Where Stephen was more analytical, hitting every sweet spot with medical precision, Tony was more sloppy, leading with his gut feelings rather than his head. He sank down Stephen's length, swallowing a few times before rising back up. His tongue lazily stroked at every inch of skin, collecting precum at the tip and darting out to lap at Stephen's balls.

Stephen curled his fingers more securely into Tony's hair, gently leading him up and down his cock. Tony moaned, his eyes rolling back. He relaxed his mouth, luxuriating in the sensation of Stephen languidly fucking his throat.

"It's almost scary how compatible we are," Stephen purred, rolling his hips. "I always thought I'd be too kinky--"

Suddenly, the door to the workshop snapped open.

Stephen's blood ran cold. He tried to push Tony back but he was too preoccupied.

"Tony!" It was Rhodey. "Yo, Tony! I've got a press conference this weekend and I know you looove suit shopping, maybe you can bring the missus and--"

Rhodey rounded the array of workbenches, his eyes going wide when he finally spotted the pair. He stopped dead in his tracks, quickly throwing an arm over his eyes.

"Seriously?!"

"Maybe knock next time?!"

"Holy fuck, you're both the literal worst--"

"Yeah well you're the one that just referred to me as 'the missus' which is fucked up in its own right--"

"It's an affectionate pet name, dammit!!"

Rhodey stomped off, slamming the door shut as he went

Stephen glanced down at Tony, still happily bobbing up and down his cock, and came without warning. Tony's face looked panicked. He pulled back, choking on his cum, and got a couple shots in the face for good measure. Stephen squawked, scrambling off of the chair. His body threatened to collapse as he wobbled on his feet, hurriedly tucking himself away and zipping up his pants. From the floor, Tony cackled.

"I had no idea you were a voyuer, Strange," Tony laughed, swiping seed off of his cheek. "Damn. You kinky fucker."

"I swear to god, Stark, I will divorce you before we're even married."

"No, you won't."

Tony clambered to his feet, yanking Stephen close with a finger tucked into his collar. Stephen whimpered, going limp against Tony as he was kissed breathless. He could taste his own essence on Tony's tongue, drawing a low moan from his chest.

"Maybe next time, I can have some of the suits set up to watch us?" Tony crooned, biting Stephen's lower lip. "Indulge you without any risk."

Stephen's face turned a bright crimson. He buried himself in Tony's neck, whining at the back of his throat. Tony laughed, patting his back lovingly.

"I. I would like that." Stephen muttered.

"I know you would."

 

 


	23. Robot Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: action, suspense, mild inuries

The fight began easily enough.

Battling a couple large enemies tended to fare better than battling an army. You can account for three emormous bodies, but keeping track of hundreds was significantly more difficult.

"Alright, this one is down!" Tony barked into his comm, watching the smouldering wreckage of robot number three. "Clint, how's your end look?"

"Dead as fuck over here!" The archer answered. "I can see Central Park and it looks like Strange and Spidey also handled theirs!"

"Excellent," Tony retracted his helmet, gently descending to the ground. "Job well done, everybody!"

"That was some good thinking," Cap ambled over, fastening his shield into its harness. "Popping that hydrant and electrocuting it. Minimal property damage-- I'm impressed, Stark."

"Yeah well. I've been working with the best so."

They shared a slightly awkward smile. Things were healing between the pair, though a few rough spots in need of buffering still remained. Tony was trying to listen to Steve more and Steve was trying to listen back. Their dynamic was under construction but progress looked good.

"Alright, honeybee, get your ass over here," Tony grinned, practically crooning into his comm. "We're gonna be late for our movie and you know how much I love ripping into previews."

Their private channel was nothing but static. Tony pursed his lips, snapping his helmet back into place. The HUD flashed on, showing a matrix of the comm links. Cap, Clint, Natasha, Peter, and Stephen were all online. Tony clicked his tongue, patching into the private line again.

"Are you still angry over breakfast, babe? I'm really sorry, I didn't hear you coming and I just wanted to do breakfast in bed--"

"--r.Stark??"

"Peter? Why do you have Stephen's comm?"

"Oh my god, Mr.Stark," Peter sounded panicked and afraid, making Tony's blood run cold. "Doc and I were fighting our huge robot and we beat it but I got distracted and it fell on me. He jumped to save me and..."

"Peter. Where is Stephen?"

Cap looked concerned. He pulled off his cowl, leaning in closer.

"He's here, but he's knocked out. The Cloak saved us both in time and we're all trapped. He's bleeding a lot but I remember he told me that head wounds tend to bleed more."

"I'm on my way. Don't fucking move an inch, understand?"

"Yes, Mr.Stark, of course, Mr.Stark."

Tony held out his hand. Cap took it immediately. They shot through the air towards the wreckage in Central Park.

"Looks like our job isn't done yet."

 

The robot's dead shell wasn't hard to spot, being the size of a town house. Tony dipped down, gently dropping Cap, before flying over for a bird's eye view. He toggled his heat sensing visor but with the robot still slightly on fire, his readings were fuzzy.

"Tony! I think I found them!"

Tony landed hard, sprinting over to Cap. He was trying his best to pull away the smaller rocks, exposing a netting of sticky webs deep below. It looked like Peter had made a makeshift support system to keep them from getting crushed. A passing sensation of relief crossed Tony's heart. The kid may be easily distracted but he worked fast and smart. 

"Peter, can you hear me?" Tony barked into the comm.

"Mr.Stark!"

Peter's voice came louder from within the debris. They were definitely trapped. It looked like the robot's carcass had fallen, dragging rocks and trees nearby onto itself. A claustrophobic trap had formed, craddling Peter and Stephen inside.

"Peter, I need you to check on Stephen." Tony begged, inching closer to the wreckage.

"He's breathing but it's real shallow. His pulse seems fine."

Exhaling sharply, Tony dug deep and begain slowly excavating. He knew any sudden movements would cause a sinkhole, crushing the pair inside. Peter was strong but moving everything above him from the inside would be far too heavy. Plus, there was a greater chance of collapse that way.

"When we get to the innermost layer," Tony instructed, turning his attention to Cap. "I'm gonna make a gap for you. I need you to go as fast as fucking possible and carry them out. On my signal."

"Got it." Cap replied. His steely resolve soothed the ache in Tony's chest.

After what felt like hours, Tony had made a sizeable dent. Any sudden movement threatened a deadly shift in debris. When he reached the layer of webbing deep within, he knew this was his chance.

"Peter! Move back from the hole!" He commanded.

Tony could hear movement, waiting until it went quiet again. Supporting the rocks around the opening, Tony set up an array of targets on his HUD. His secondary lazers, each thinner than a pencil in diameter, whined as they powered up. They worked fast, cutting away the webbing without slicing through the rock. A gaping hole connecting the trap and the outside was formed.

"Cap! Now's your chance!"

Cap moved like a shadow, quick and silent. He ducked inside, curling his arms around Peter and Stephen. He heaved them out, the Cloak fluttering close behind. Once they were safe on the grass, Tony stepped away and watched the makeshift coffin of rock and metal collapse.

"Alright, status report," Tony snapped back his helmet, dropping to the ground. "Peter, are you ok?"

"Kinda hard to tell," The teen replied. He looked pale and his shoulders were shaking. "I can't really think right now."

Tony grunted softly. Taking Stephen in his arms, he examined his head. There was a sizeable cut from the middle of his forehead to his temples on one side. It was deeper than Tony expected but not life-threatening, already clotting a bit to slow the blood flow.

"Pete... Peter..."

Stephen coughed wetly, shuddering in Tony's arms. Somehow, he managed to open his eyes, though his gaze was distant.

"Oh my fucking god," Tony sighed, his laughter manic. "Thank god."

"Where's Peter?" Stephen croaked.

"Hey, Doc," Peter leaned in, his hands hovering over Stephen's shoulders. "Thanks for saving me--"

"Let me see your hand."

Peter blinked, doing as he was told. Stephen looked him over, reaching out to prod at his arm. The teen winced, hissing through clenched teeth. 

"You have a sprain... Probably gonna need a brace for a week..." Stephen recited, tenderly massaging the injury. "Also I'm... Pretty sure you pulled your shoulder and have some bruising around your ribs..."

"Shut up, ok?" Tony smiled, pushing a few locks of hair out of Stephen's cut. "You can give us a full medical report later."

"I called in backup," Cap cut in. He looked just as relieved as Tony felt. "Medics should be here in five."

Stephen sighed, reaching up to prod at his injury. He groaned, rolling his eyes.

"Definitely a concussion... I was hoping I could go a month without shit like this..." He muttered. Consciousness was slipping out of his grasp.

"Just. Shush. Relax." Tony leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Stephen's cheek. 

"I'm sorry for slipping up like that--"

Before Peter could continue, Stephen raised his hand, covering his mouth. Peter's eyes went wide.

"Shh. It's ok. Relax." Stephen mimicked.

"Sorry, dad."

Tony tried not to freak out. Stephen was too hazy and Peter was running on adrenaline. It was unlikely either would realize Peter legitimately just called Stephen "dad". Before he could really think about it, Tony heard the familiar call of SHIELD's medic agents. He helped them get Stephen on a stretcher, Peter following close behind. When the doors to the shuttle snapped close, Tony finally allowed himself to breathe.

"Quite a disfunctional little family you've got there."

Tony startled, whipping around. Cap was still there, a shy smile on his face.

"I'm uh. Happy for you." He coughed into his fist.

Tony smiled. He could still remember those days long passed, waking up in the arms of America's most famous blond superhero, sharing meals and kisses in the dead of night. Those were all a distant memory now, fading in the light of a better path forward. Cap had his own family now, too, and Tony was equally ecstatic on his part. He leaned forward, patting Cap's shoulder affectionately.

"Thanks, Steve."


	24. A Happy Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag warnings: a good ol' happy end

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14458707

This fic was meant to be a final wedding chapter to celebrate but once it crossed 7k words, I thought it'd be better as a standalone fic. Follow the link and enjoy!

I wanna thank all of you for your support, it means the world to me! I look forward to writing more for each and every one of you :)

**Author's Note:**

> Send me prompts over at doobler.tumblr.com!!!  
> Comments and kudos keep this train a-going!!


End file.
